The Secret Diary of Motoko
by twiknham
Summary: Both spoof and serious thoughts from Ghost in the Shell anime, Motoko POV. Had to upgrade to M. For MK's mouth and lack of concern for typical gender roles.
1. Entries 1 10

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Ghost in the Shell. That is proudly owned by Shirow Masamune. This goes for both the original and Stand Alone Complex. I also do not own any of the characters or references that get sucked in. In this chapter, they belong to the Wachowski Brothers and Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman. However, I do own this piece of drivel.

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The Secret Diary of Motoko

Chapter 1:

(Don't ask me why I number my chapters, it's an internal cross-indexing thing I do to alleviate the boredom)

If you are reading this, I'm already hacking your mind. Be warned that I might not absorb criminals of cybercrimes, but you have 2nanoseconds to get out of..oh wait…too late.

Entry 1:  
Spent all day hacking the core of Yazuka to learn that I was actually hacking a dummy server system designed by some dipwad that went by the name "Mouse."

Entry 2:  
Took a mini Tachikoma for a test drive today, rode it like a horse. Made it appear to all witnesses like the Laughing Man was behind the hi-jinx. Good on it's feet (if you want to call them that), but it doesn't corner well. I'll stick to the automobile.

Entry 3:  
Batou went on and on and on and on about his classic car, so I tuned him out. Met a cutie in cyber chat, we have an iInterlude planned tonight, that should be fun. Blinked in and Batou was ranting about some problem between his wife and her mother, so I balanced my budget, did an auto-tune on my ports, and still had time to install, play 2 rounds, and uninstall some archaic game called "Pong." When he finally realized I was not listening, I told him I was zoning. He huffed, but went on with his world.

Entry 4:  
Made friends with a Tachikoma, they like WacDonald's fries apparently (I didn't know Tachs were even capable of eating). Now it follows me everywhere. It comes in handy when on the job, not so handy when it's trying to squeeze into my sleep cube with me.

Entry 5:  
Made Batou do a vertical drop in a manned Tach today. Ha ha. He hates heights, that'll teach him to say something about my taste in clothes. I did a halo-less halo jump, wicked cool (I heard someone on the CyberNet say that yesterday, I like it).

Entry 6:  
Have deleted the word "wicked" from my vocabulary. Someone else liked it, downloaded it as a virus, and turned the entire city of Tokyo into a post-modern Massachusetts. If I ever again hear the word wicked…aaarg!

Entry 7:  
Tried to program my brain to like WacDonalds fries. Since Ko (my nick for Tachikoma) has been following me everywhere, and it eats them, I thought I'd try. Apparently it's as hard to like them as it is to quit thinking about that word…you know…wicked…dammit to hell!

Entry 8:  
Yellow Submarine, Yellow Submarine. There's got to be something more annoying than wicked…Shit!

Entry 9:  
Found it. It was in an old archive of an amusement park ride in America. All I can think is… "It's a small world afterall…." Ad nauseam. And to think they used to make children listen to this crap!

Entry 10:  
Something actually happened at Section 9 today. Besides that stupid song rubbing off on Chief Aramaki, who actually remembered it from his childhood (poor child), the Laughing Man showed up. He apparently had enough of the Wicked virus, so he put a fix virus out and disguised it by making people attack a statue in Shinjuku. However, we decided to let him get away this time since he ultimately made the world a better place.

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A/N: If you absolutely hate this and must express that hatred, please be aware that others read these reviews, so don't use a lot of fowl (he he) language. No Flickers, or a Florida Cormorant, or a Foolish Guillemot for that matter. Only fowl that don't start with the letter F please. There are plenty of those to choose from.

Feel free to use those F-words in your fics (I do), but the reviews are NOT rated. You're a writer for crying-out-loud, be creative. Describe the horror of my story using words that aren't in the Slang English Dictionary. It'll be a good exercise for you, and enjoyable for everyone else to read.

If you do like it, seeing your review will be a NICE change from all the creative not-so-positive reviews I'm sure I'll receive. Bless you, your sense of humor is as strange as mine, and you understand my pain.

This fic is being used to vent my frustration as I deal with some programming issues at work. It'll show up whenever I have a choice of killing someone, destroying a computer system, or writing this fic. It is NOT tied to any of my other works that I have posted on this site and will not be updated on a regular schedule. However, you do get a double-dose tonight because I'm still mad. -TK


	2. Entries 11 20

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Ghost in the Shell. That is proudly owned by Shirow Masamune. This goes for both the original and Stand Alone Complex. Nor do I own any characters created by the Wachowski Brothers. However, I do own this piece of drivel, two whole chapters in fact. Who knew my sense of humor was this extensive.

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The Secret Diary of Motoko

Chapter 2:

(I'm thinking about switching to ASCII characters, just to be difficult.)

If you are reading this, I've already hacked your mind and you're now trapped forever in this world of sliding thoughts. God have mercy on your Soul.

Entry 11:  
This "Mouse" character is very irritating. Thought I'd had enough of him with my last encounter with his alternate mainframe reality setup. Today he actually went so far as to try and make me believe I was in a world made up of only various shades of green. Really, and that so DOES NOT match my outfit. I'm thinking about telling the Chief about this idiot so we can take him out before he becomes a threat to lesser minds' sanity.

Entry 12:  
Today was NOT fun. Exciting, stimulating, somewhat arousing in fact, but NOT fun. I spent the day chasing the same guy through a bunch of hallways. Everywhere I turned, the SOB was somewhere else. To make matters worse, my two colleagues were telling me they had the same guy. When we put them together, we had 8 different people, I had captured four. Turns out they were all wearing really bad masks. Clones, I could understand. But after the Jarti case, we had closed all known cloning facilities. Here we are running around and thinking we're uncovering another conspiracy, and it's a damned copycat crime, done to try and elicit publicity. I went CyberCafe' surfing on the way back and let me just say that tomorrow night I won't be putting any entries in THIS journal.

Entry 13:  
Who says 13 is an unlucky number? I wasn't. It was great! Lots of mental stuff, cyber stuff, and some physical stuff. So, why is my Ghost whispering to me suddenly?

Entry 14:  
Ghost, shmost. Well, I'd say that if I didn't actually like my human half. We played ball for a few minutes, it went back to sleep. I'm going to have to take some serious down-time and work on appeasing that part of me. It's becoming unruly. It actually spoke up during a meeting with the team. Aramaki realized what was happening and cut it off. It's one thing for me to talk with it, but my inner, inner soul DOES NOT need to go out for a little teatime.

Entry 15:  
Ko is a wonderful partner, again, at work. Not at home. I had a meeting this evening at a friend's house. Ko showed up and whined to be let in. Dogs whine, Tachikomas should wait patiently at the curb for me to get finished with my personal business. Talk about killing the mood!

Entry 16:  
Found out what the game is with this Mouse person. He's actually the puppet of a more nefarious plot. Apparently he's been duped into thinking he lives in a world run by computers. Well…he does, but completely by…oh nevermind! He thinks computers are bad, that they control us instead of us controlling them. Now, how does that go again, we control computers, computers…to hell with it. He thinks we're hard-wired into the system, being used as batteries. Batteries, HA, does he know how much power I consume in a day? We're batteries!?! That's where his theory fails.

Entry 17:  
Traced Mouse to some abandoned warehouse. Inside we found 5 or 6 people all zoned out, jerking around and flailing body parts everywhere. I jacked one just in time to watch her see herself die. I had to do a hard boot in order to get her back. I hate those. I guess we'll be visiting them at the sanitarium next week to arraign a hearing. Mouse was…well, like his name. Short, squeaky, and beady little optic implants. Has a thing for redheads, pity. They can be so tempermental.

Entry 18:  
Togusa let me drive today. Wick…er…very wonderful! We outran the police, which pissed them off. Oh well. He then took me for hotdogs. Much better than fries. He ate four, with chili and onions. I put him in the trunk for the ride home.

Entry 19:  
So I walked into work today, Aramaki was nowhere to be found. In fact everyone was gone. I sat and drifted through chat channels and waited to hear something. When I finally made contact, it was to hear them being attacked by terrorists outside the building. I go flying out of my office, by way of the window, to learn that Togusa had set up this prank to get even for the trunk incident. I'd admit we were even, but I stuffed him in the trunk for a GOOD reason. When I explained this to the guys, they howled, smacked him on the back, and told me to quit being so girly. I'm officially offended.

Entry 20:  
I stayed zoned all day. Didn't respond to a single stray thought from my team. Well, only one, when I had to go save Batou from some gun-slinging Laughing Man copycat. "Too Girly my ASS!" Then I zoned back out when he tried to thank me. I'm macho, I don't need thanks. I then went home and got me some, after I locked Ko in the compound facility for the evening. Go me.

ssssss

A/N: Mata. -TK


	3. Entries 21 30

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Ghost in the Shell. That is proudly owned by Shirow Masamune. This goes for both the original and Stand Alone Complex. Nor do I own any characters created by the Wachowski Brothers. However, I do own this piece of drivel, three chapters with no ending in sight. Scary, but actually beginning to have a plot.

The Secret Diary of Motoko – Modified 4/28/05  
Chapter 3:  
(I decided that ASCII was too complicated, may go with an eight-bit binary system)  
Yet again, if I catch you hacking this diary, you will wish that we still had the death penalty.

Entry 21:  
Well, found out why you should never lock a Tachikoma in the compound for the night. They hold grudges. Won't come when called, ordered, or pleaded with. WON'T save your butt when you're in a jam. The only way to get back in their good graces is WacDonald's Apple Pies. Flowers would have been cheaper.

Entry 22:  
Came home tonight to a horrendous mess. One damned window in my cube, and someone broke in through it and tossed my bed. Called the police, then realized I WAS the police. Filed the report under "domestic terrorism," that might have been a _little_ over the top.

Entry 23:  
Togusa let me stay with him last night. One little burglary and the big tough police bitch becomes all soft and shivery. One of the few things I cannot stand about myself. Damned Ghost can't seem to forget what it's like to have mortality. On a lighter note, Togusa snores, really loudly. Not that I would normally take advantage of someone who is doing me a favor…but he is still up by one.

Entry 24:  
Not only do I feel violated; but this bastard took 1 of my favorite pairs of shoes. Not 1 pair, 1 damn shoe. Now I'm going to have to spend valuable time looking for another set of my favorite shoes. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find genuine Doc Marten MP boots in a Size 3 mens?

Entry 25:  
Have decided that when I find the asshole who broke into my home, I'm going to fuzz his brain. Not fry it, but fuzz it. Leave him wallowing in half-in/half-out misery forever. Not brain dead enough to allow a reboot, but fried enough he won't be able to function. Asshole took the clips and ammo to my guns, but left the guns. One is required for the other. I went to pull on someone today, and if Battou hadn't been there, I'd have died.

Entry 26:  
Ko is freaking my shit out. It'll turn and "stare" at something. I look, there's nothing there. It goes back to its normal programming, than suddenly stares at that spot again. I'm already a little unsettled about my cube, this _isn't_ helping.

Entry 27:  
Episode 70 of the human batteries. That little twerp we put in Bellevue last month has friends. Apparently we have quite a cult of delusionals who think they are batteries. Some chick who going by the name Trinity (as in the religious, or because she thinks she exists in 3 places?), ran into me at the club. Looked interesting until she started whispering about how she knew that I was searching. Big light over my head, I think Battou could see it across town. I'd heard that before. When I turned to question her about her apparent insanity, she was gone. Why do I feel like this one is going to come back to haunt me?

Entry 28:  
Got to talking with a real cutie today. However, the surprise was on me. Not who I was expecting. Neo was the name, should have known by the lack of hips and ass. But from the back, and looking at the way he walked… Oh well. Guess what the best part is… he's one of those battery cult people. Yippie, skippie!

Entry 29:  
I feel like a third wheel at the Togusa household. His wife is a wonderful woman, but I just don't feel like I fit in to their idea of suburban bliss. Plus, the demon in my head made me say something about Togusa's snoring habit, which got me a cross-wise glare from the little lady of the house. Since she's obviously pregnant, and hormonal to boot, I don't need to be adding stress to her life. I told Togusa I was going to be out of their house by the end of the week.

Entry 30:  
Going to be going off-line for a few. Doing some zoning to discover what I can about this battery cult. Batou is going to watch my bod while I'm gone (it took forever to get him to promise not to touch it). Who knows, maybe I'll run into someone cute.

A/N: Modified to correct a major OOC issue with Togusa. It was not my aim to alter the characters that severely, not even for humor.-TK


	4. Entries 31 40

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Ghost in the Shell. That is proudly owned by Shirow Masamune. This goes for both the original and Stand Alone Complex. Nor do I own any characters created by the Wachowski Brothers. I also do not own any rights to works done by the linguistic roman catholic, JRR Tolkien.

The Secret Diary of Motoko  
Chapter 4:  
(How about just plain English, that's a language that no one uses anymore. It's all Chinese, Spanish, and Japanese now.)  
Ah hell, if you're still reading my diary, you're either desperate, or you're studying ancient civilizations and I've been dead for a millennia.

Chapter 31:  
Actually slept pretty well last night, first night back in my cube since the "domestic terrorism" event (BTW, Aramaki made me downgrade it from terrorism to simple B&E, now some jackwad is going to get his/her hands on the case and my plastic parts will have decomposed before it gets resolved). Alarm system will be on-line tomorrow…peace, sweet peace.

Chapter 32:  
Kicked Batou out of his bed. His damned fault anyways. Got my new handy-dandy alarm system installed and hooked up. Batou HAD to come over and point out two different ways someone could hack around my system and break into my cube without anyone being the wiser. That's when I packed my 'shack-sack' – minus the shack, it's _is_ Batou after all- and told him HE was sleeping on the damned couch until we both agreed my place was secure.

Chapter 33:  
Section 9 unanimously voted Togusa best coffee maker of the year. As a result of the award, he is privileged to come in 20 minutes early and make coffee for the squad. He's so cute when he gets mad. Still has the ability to blush. If I was even the least bit inclined…but I'm really not up for experimentation right now.

Chapter 34:  
While zoning last night, ran into a contact that had some information on the battery cult. He's a little weird, talks only in monotone, but he's wick…er…really funny when doing British humor. In exchange for an old ratty copy of The Silmarillian I had sitting around the place (actually, Batou had it sitting around his place. I didn't think he'd miss it, it was BORING!), I learned that this Neo is actually being hunted for various cyber-crimes. This brought up a discussion about an entity called Morpheus, named for the god of dreams. He's apparently the cult leader, and much destruction has been done in his name. He's not sure this person exists in reality, actually suspects that he's a burner who got fried while in the system and cannot offline and function as part of society. My contact said it'd be real nice if I caught Neo because Neo keeps calling him "Agent Smith," and it's ticking him off, his last name is Martinelle.

Chapter 35:  
Batou finally got off his lazy ass and secured my place to his specifications. I asked him what his deal was. He said as much as I'd been zoning lately, he wanted to make sure I had a body to come back to. Said it was hard as hell to break in a new commanding officer. Awww, almost makes me feel bad for drinking straight out of his milk carton this week.

Chapter 36:  
Damned alarm went off twice today. Second time I took Ko with me to investigate. Once, setup problems. Twice, issues. Found said issue. It was black and furry. I was ready to stomp the thing when Ko informed me it was an endangered animal. Now it's found a treasured spot just beneath the halogen light on my drop-down desk. It's curled up in a…cute?…little ball of fur (damned ghost sentimentality). Has sharp little claws too. I thought 'spot' might be a good name since it has one white spot on its head, but Ko looked through historical records and stated that was a name typically used for a dog. Ko recommended 'fluffy.' Nah, I'm just not THAT sweet. Kuroneko came to mind, but Ko said it was not original enough, and had already been used in at least 1 legal anime series. Maybe the guys at work will have some ideas…and maybe they'll know what I can do with this creature long term.

Chapter 37:  
Sleep…blessed sleep. Something that evil one didn't let me get much of last night. Hey, EO, not bad! I'll bounce it off the guys; but I think I have a name. I left my robe lying on the bed, EO found the sash; and proceeded to pull it off the robe and bring it up to my face and drop it. I could have gone back to sleep, but then it had to sit there with all four paws gathered all close together, as if trying to take up the least possible square space (my ghost thought it was particularly cute). It blinked at me, then it opened its mouth, and the most horrifying yowl spewed forth. Played 'fetch the sash' for an hour before EO decided to crawl up onto my chest and go to sleep. My inner child wouldn't let me bother it, so I sat with it in my arms forever. It even dared to growl when I put it on the bed so I could get up and go to work.

Chapter 38:  
Woke up to a vibrating back massage. EO was asleep in the middle of my back, purring. Cute trick, I might have to learn it. I could definitely see times when that skill could be used to my advantage. Ko asked me today how EO was getting along without facilities…bad thoughts. I rushed home to realize the damned cat was intelligent too. It had figured out how to evacuate the waste chamber in the room. I scratched its belly, it actually liked it. The guys liked the name, but wondered why I keep it. I would rather have taken a slow walk through four cloning chambers filled with generated bodies of male sexual offenders than to explain that my inner child wouldn't let me get rid of it. Did a few minutes of zoning to meet with "Smith" (ha ha), and learned that Morpheus had sub-systemed into hiding yesterday.

Chapter 39:  
I was sitting here watching EO groom tonight, very impressed with the cat's fastidiousness, when Togusa cut into the silence. "Major, just learned some important news." _Go ahead_ I responded. "EO has an owner…a very worried owner." I didn't respond. "The owner's name is Shiori. She's five, and very, very upset about her missing Shadow." Damn, even my ghost couldn't argue with a five year olds' pain, it understood only too well. "Major?" _Go ahead and give the family my contact information._ So here I sit…alone…an hour after EO happily bounded out of my arms and up to the little girl who picked it up like a ragdoll and squeezed it tightly. Note to self…never speak to a certain cybernetically modified human for as long as I exist.

Chapter 40:  
No more fun and games for Motoko. Section 9 was just given the green light to find resolution to this battery clan issue. Today Hyanuku Yoshirou, the retired mayor, was hacked by a member of the clan. When the member was apprehended, he kept saying that we all were just batteries, the machines had our bodies, and we were not truly alive. When they checked his brain out, they found unusual alpha patterns but were unable to investigate further because his linking structures suddenly melted, leaving him in a cybernetic void.

A/N: RaynaDarkstorm, Devilman666, Amourwolf, thank you for the reviews! DM, to answer your query, the woman's a natural flirt. She runs around in lingerie for heaven's sake. She knows what she's doing to the male populace; so yeah, I think she finds herself flirting on occasion. Does she mean it? I haven't seen any evidence of it in what I've watched, she tends to stick with her own kind (if you get my drift). If she was to break out of her norm, I feel she'd go after Togusa, he's still human. I think her ghost makes a connection with him. What do you all think?


	5. Entries 41 50

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Ghost in the Shell. That is proudly owned by Shirow Masamune. This goes for both the original and Stand Alone Complex. Nor do I own any characters created by the Wachowski Brothers.

Entry 41:  
Decided to take a break from the journal for a few days, have been dealing with some fairly serious issues, had no humor in me at all. Read back over what I'd written, not quite in the vein I intended. I believe I will put it in my last will and testament that if anything happens to me, Batou has the dubious job of ridding the universe of this journal. He's the only one I trust not to read it. Oh, he'll want to, but if I specifically state he isn't to, he will respect my wishes.  
Of course, I do realize that in my present state, I'm basically immortal. I wonder if that's why I keep taking all the dangerous assignments. Am I _trying_ to push my luck, do I believe immortality transposes over into all aspects of my world, or am I looking for an escape from a nicely built cage?

Entry 42:  
Togusa brought pictures of his baby daughter in today. Makes me feel real guilty about having had thoughts about him that were of an…improper nature. It's one thing to think half-heartedly about a coworker (even one I hand selected because we needed a straight-man with a purely human brain to round out the team), it's quite another to think that way about a family man. Again, Batou is so going to bomb this journal.  
On a side note, finally made contact with Morpheus. I was able to glean enough information that I am able to substantiate what I have learned about both Morpheus and Neo. Morpheus is only a gateway to allow this Neo character to evolve into a higher being. Morpheus doesn't actually exist. It is a very complicated gate program, and I sent a copy to the lab for evaluation.

Entry 43:  
A very disturbing episode happened today. One of the tachikomas "got loose" from the collective. It spent the entire day out interacting with people and things. At one point it even found a ghost box, a box that allows a ghost of a human to inhabit and trap unwary people who are looking for escapism and find instead a very pretty cage.   
The box bothers me on several levels. We lost an agent to it, and I do not suffer the loss of my people lightly. Plus, I also found myself wanting to stay in the box, to put the cloak of indecisiveness on and shut the door behind me, keeping myself in and all others out. It was a struggle at first to turn and leave, but I knew I had a job to do. I could not save those inside, but I could prevent others from being trapped as well. I believe many people walked into that room not knowing what to expect, and even more are unable to leave because they do not possess the knowledge or the internal strength to fight the lure of Panacea.  
The Tachikoma getting out bothered me as well. It did not behave as its programming should have regulated. Of course it has a free-logic AI program, but that program has several failsafe measures that should have prevented the blatant disregard of all recalls, there were seven. When the Tachikoma finally came back, it also downloaded its experiences to the other Tachikomas. I no longer trust Ko. I had diagnostics done on the unit that got out, the only variation I found was that organic oil had been used on it. I know **exactly** who to talk to about that one, I only know one person who stands firm in his protest of using "artificial" ingredients. Pretty laughable considering he's mostly machine himself.

Entry 44:  
What is the saying about good bedfellows making poor working partners? Well, I'm modifying that a little. Good friends standing on opposite sides of the same fence make vicious enemies. For the first time in months, I made Batou so angry he had to walk away from the area of engagement. We had a little discussion about organics in the workplace. Batou believes that the experience the Tachikoma had yesterday was beneficial to the overall progress of the machines' evolution. He said that the organic oil should not have triggered the effect, and that it was only part of the growth cycle of the programming. I pointed out that none of the other Tachs wanted to "go out and play," only the one he'd been dosing with organic oil. I also reminded him that the only thing that separated us from the latest dolls was the small amount of organic material in our bodies. That's when Batou got tight lipped and crossed his hands over his chest and growled at me. "I'll quit using the damned oil, but I'm telling you it doesn't matter." I just looked at him. _It does, and you know it._ His face turned red and he walked away. Score for the home team, but I don't feel like I won.

Entry 45:  
My second hacker agent left today. Both of them have been working on the Morpheus gate. I'm not sure exactly what is going on in their heads, I was rebuffed when I tried to make contact. I am concerned. I am going to dive myself after I deal with the Tachikoma issue. While playing in a chat room today, I got the direct impression that I was being observed. When I came out, I asked my team, they knew nothing about it. What are the chances I have a secret admirer?

Entry 46:  
Decommissioned the Tachs today. They were all singing a children's song about detention camps, but none of them knew the significance when Batou asked them about it. He wasn't on my side of the fence until that incident. Later he came and told me about it, and said that although he didn't approve of my method, he agreed with my decision.   
Two things bother me. If a small amount of organic material in an AI machine could cause it to reach consciousness, does that mean machines are capable of creating their own souls? Also, if one machine reaches a state of consciousness and then shares that with the collective, does that make all of them conscious, or is it only the one that the others are "experiencing" consciousness through? How would we tell the difference between a memory and a download if this were the case?

Entry 47:  
Drew straws today to see who was going to work with Aramaki this week. He's going out of town to meet with some officials of the British Government. Guess who got the short straw. I told Togusa he owed me one, see if he can figure it out.  
Aramaki told me to pack for rain. His exact words were; "To quote the Brits, 'it bloody rains all the time unless there's fog, then it's just wet air.'" He also took me aside and said that my propensity for running around in almost nothing was not an acceptable mode of operandi there. I reminded him it wasn't exactly normal here either, but I didn't care. The look I got was priceless. Guess I'm going shopping –dammit.

Entry 48:  
Well, if I'd known we were coming over here for a booty call, I would have brought a thicker book to read. The boys back at base would never believe me if I told them, and I respect Aramaki too much to do so. It was entertaining to see him splash on an extra dab of some cologne called "Old Spice." Mmm, not quite what I imagined for an old war dog. An old sea dog maybe, but NOT Aramaki.  
Also caught the charming couple in a clench. If it hadn't been for the two others in the cramped quarters with them, I would have shut the lid and come back tomorrow. Guess the chief hasn't lost his charm, she was none too pleased when he got in the car and drove away. I didn't eavesdrop, but she was dressed for action. She gave him a bottle of wine, very NICE wine I might add. We shared it while he filled me in on what happened to cause them to go into hiding.

Entry 49:  
Slow day at the shop. Batou is talking about getting a dog…again. Does he not know they shed, bark, and slobber (among other disagreeable things)? Togusa brought a new set of pictures of his daughter, and Aramaki was humming under his breath all day. Very disconcerting, all he could sing was "Yellow Submarine" by the Beatles. I think Ishikawa was ready to stuff him in the back of Batou's car and park it on a slow boat to America. Too bad Batou was on to it, he spent the day growling at Ishikawa and guarding his keys.  
Worked on the Morpheus gate. Did some diving and have come to the conclusion that it was a program designed by someone who was trying to determine if people can distinguish between reality, or a very intricate program. The victims are carefully screened based upon their reality. If their reality is acceptable, they are allowed access to the program and are given two choices, their reality that is mostly unbelievable in its ease and perfect-ness, and a fantasy that is believable in its struggles and moral requirements.   
The Morpheus program has computed that of the 1,437 individuals who have been accepted, 97 percent of them are able to distinguish and accept reality. The 3 percent that do not (43 individuals), are infected with an AI system that gives them an alternate reality they can believe. They continue to exist in our society, but believe they do so only as if they are hacking the net (where the rest of us are supposed to live). There is a special site set up for them that allows them to interact with each other, thus providing them with the social interaction required to keep individuals from closing in and becoming non-functioning sub-routines.  
It's quite an ingenious program. Too bad it's harmful to the integrity of the victim's mind. I need to talk with Aramaki about how to handle this, there has to be someone behind it. It appears to have no direct ties to the Neo character. I will dive into the chat site later, see if there are any ties there.

Entry 50:  
Good News! Ssshhh...don't tell anyone (like you would, you're an inanimate piece of paper). Two months ago, I went to a specialty shop that deals in dive equipment. Explained to the owner what I needed, and he said he'd look into it. Well, he called today and said he had a prototype. I stopped by the shop, and he said I'd have to test it with him, which earned him an evil glare. Back peddling, he explained WHY (if it fails, I'd drop like a stone), than said he wasn't interested in having sex with a machine, and wasn't flattered I thought he might be. Well, guess that puts me in my place. Even though I've the same rights as a normal human-due to my human DNA and a genuine ghost-I'm still a machine in most people's minds. Makes me want to punch him with these cybernetic muscles of mine. Good thing money isn't prejudiced, we dive tomorrow.

sssss

A/N: Sorry for the long break, I have two fics going at the same time (boo, hiss), one posted (this one), and one not posted. I don't like to post until my muse is done; but due to the nature of this story, it is better suited to an as-it-is-written posting. Also, this is completely based off of the anime, not the manga (although I'd love to read the series), so if there are other character developments/history in the Manga, I know nothing about them.

PS, thank you to each of you who have reviewed, I like hearing both how I can approve, and how this story is being received. -TK


	6. Entries 51 60

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Ghost in the Shell. That is proudly owned by Shirow Masamune. This goes for both the movies and the Stand Alone Complex.

**Chapter 6:**

Entry 51:  
And God said to Motoko, 'I will give you gills and open the doors to paradise.' Or at least that's what God would have said to me today if he was talking. Mack, the guy who developed my BCD (buoyancy control device), took us out into the area just outside of the old city. He anchored the boat and got our gear ready. He only stumbled once, when I answered his question about my body weight. I laughed and reminded him I'd spec'd a heavy-duty floater for that reason and he said he just didn't realize I was made out of lead. Once he rebalanced the system for my weight, he strapped it on me and told me to delay entry until he was in the water. Then he walked off the edge of the boat. When I did the same, I bobbed on the surface like a child's toy. He chuckled and explained he'd over compensated just in case I'd lied about my true weight. After a few more adjustments, he said I was ready to dive.   
There's a part of the human section of my brain that argues against logic with faith. It tells me that I should stand and fight when logic demands I retreat. It also tells me that breathing when surrounded by water will drown me irregardless of the regulator. However, when the world starts getting fuzzy around the edges, the human sides takes a blind leap of faith and says…_BREATHE!_   
So there I was, getting fuzzy around the edges when I suddenly suck two lungs full of…air. After a panicked breath or five, I calmed down and opened my optics. The view is astonishing.   
Sunlight filters through saltwater, diffracting in unique ripple patterns that gives the world in front of me a visual texture. But when I reach out to touch these ripples, I pass right through them, as if I have no substance. For the brief few minutes of time I had before my tank beeped to let me know I was running out of air, I felt as if I was only a mirage, an inconsequential pattern woven into the weft of the universe itself. For the first time in a very long time, my ghost was at peace.   
When we came to the surface of the water, it was like I was personally experiencing the painting by MC Escher in which a fish looks through the water at leaves and shimmering trees. I could almost envision the fish thinking that he was looking into another dimension. I felt the same way, looking at wavy sky-scrapers and dislocated floaty clouds while the sun rained rippled beams around my body. Breaking the surface is like falling from heaven, but in reverse. Gravity suddenly asserts itself at the normal ratio and all of the invisible worries begin to climb back on. It's almost as if I'm putting armor on to go into battle, and quite disturbing after the freedom I've just deserted. If only I had gills.

Entry 52:  
On a professional note, the Laughing Man seems to have made a resurgence. We sent Togusa in undercover to a cyber asylum for children. It was the location TLM was last traced to. We haven't heard from him yet today, but I won't be worried for another…forty-three minutes.  
I also approached Batou to see if he would be willing to go diving with me. He gave me the "Batou Death Glare;" but said if I was determined to do a fool's folly, he'd be the man on the surface.

Entry 53:  
Sorry I've been gone for a day or two…Togusa managed to get himself brain hacked, and beaten up while on assignment. After he finally woke up, he drew a picture of the person he thought was TLM. When he handed it over, it was just the deaf-mute symbol TLM uses to hide his own identity. The guys howled at it, but I didn't find it so humorous. It really bothered me because until the guys pointed out his foolishness, he thought it was the profile of a real person. TLM has more abilities than we originally suspected.

Entry 54:  
Togusa's wife and I had a long sit-down chat today. She informed me that she did not appreciate the danger I'd placed her husband in. I explained that as THE single human member of the team, he was the only person who could have gone on that assignment. I know she was frustrated and upset. Her husband left to go on-duty, disappeared for three days, and reappeared in the hospital looking like he's gone seven rounds with Muhammad Ali. Since she didn't know details, I took her bitch-slap without blinking. The things I do for my team. She made a nice gash in my skin with that damned diamond ring of hers, and I'll probably have to get my jaw realigned. I wonder if Togusa has any idea his wife is actually a tiger.

Entry 55:  
TLM went back underground as a result of Togusa's actions, so Aramaki gave us all a couple of days off. Of course it's with the provision that we come back as soon as we're called. So, Batou agreed to go "boating" with me if I would spend the morning helping him look at options for a dog. Although I thought a militant man such as himself would be partial to miniature Dobermans, Batou leans towards Bassett-hounds. What? Does he have any idea how much work those dogs require? How ironic. He's a high-maintenance cyborg thinking about getting a higher maintenance hound, while performing a job that is not conducive to any kind of lifestyle that requires predictable schedules.  
I told him my thoughts while we were heading out to the dive site, the wind whipping my words around us in disarray. Batou finally said that as long as he had me around, he didn't need a pet. I was high maintenance enough for him. I smacked him and went below deck to suit up.  
Just like last time, when I hit the water, my concerns scattered, as if they were dissolvable in that universal solvent. I concentrated more on my breathing this time, allowing myself to be under far longer than my initial dive. I had my link off, so it was just the void and myself. I later tried to explain to Batou that being down there is akin to regaining my mortality. Mortal people face the eternity of the beyond. Regardless of what religion each person has or does not have, each mortal dies. At that point, the only thing humans know is that the continuum of life ceases to exist in the four dimensional plane.  
Being deep underwater, where the ripples of light fear to go, is figuratively observing eternity. It is staring at the unknown of what is to come. That dark place between the surface and the bottom, where life again reasserts itself, is only seldom broken by fish and other marine life that dart in and out of visibility. Much like how my ghost drifts in and out of my normal consciousness. This trip, I was actually glad to breech the barrier between the world of Poseidon and the world of air. My ghost had nothing cheerful to say.  
When I broke surface, I looked over to Batou and had to stifle a chuckle. His forehead was all wrinkled up and he was shouting at me. I couldn't hear exactly what he was saying, but I could get the gist. I opened my link and told him a shar-pei would better suit him since he got all wrinkly when he frowned. He flipped me off, but immediately helped me with my gear without a single complaint.

Entry 56  
Aramaki called us back in one day early. A librarian was found in the middle of the park yesterday, completely in a quandary about how she'd gotten there. She had no recollection about anything after filing a group of books in section 142.56.7. Togusa said he felt it was related to TLM, so Aramaki stuck him in the library cataloging every book. I always though he was a little bit of the bookworm. A tenacious bookworm at that.

Entry 57:  
Dogs, dogs, dogs. I had a dream last night I was being chased by a basset hound with optic implants and a wrinkled forehead. It kept barking at me that I'd been underwater too long and I needed to come up so we could go shopping for a human. Okay, so maybe my ability to metabolize alcohol isn't as up to par as I've been bragging about, or maybe I shouldn't have stopped at the bar on the way home last night. Today I get to work, and Batou is looking at breeder records for…dogs. I HATE dogs. Well, not really. I just don't like to dream about dogs. I don't have a dog, I don't want a dog. I don't think Batou needs a dog, but he says he needs something to care for, he feels like he's losing his humanity. I told him that it was because he'd traded his human brain in on a better model. I can't repeat his exact words, but they were quite acerbic.

Entry 58:  
Day three of the Togusa Bookworm Watch. He'd made it through the letter J of books cataloged three years ago when he found the missing book. Pretty impressive considering he had to pull each box out by hand. It had a list of each person who'd received the Murai Vaccine. I am now very curious to find out if TLM is involved or if it's another copycat.

Entry 59:  
After extensive research, Batou decided not to get a dog right now. He said that currently he can only get cloned dogs, and they are neither individualistic nor healthy. I pointed out that I was not individualistic and he argued that I wasn't a clone either. I needed to remember that a clone was not unique on the inside, while a cyborg body was just a shell that housed the soul and was how people "see" me in their minds when they hear my voice. He went on to say that he'd always see me as the girl I was before I became a cyborg and my current shell was of little importance to our friendship. Then he smacked my ass and said that this shell was certainly nice to look at though. He's definitely going to pay for that at some foreseeable future.

Entry 60:  
The sun shining through my normally closed window woke me very early this morning. Since I always sleep with the window closed, I was very disoriented. Rolling over, I realized that I was fully dressed and lying on top of pink covers, which was an immediate sign I was not at home. Furthermore, Courtin was curled up under the covers beside me. That's when I remembered stopping by after work last night because she left me a message stating we needed to talk. However, I crashed before we were able to have the discussion in question. She probably wants to kill me right now.   
Although she's the most emotionally stable of the three, she still gets bent when I don't spend any time with them. I've not been available the last three months, which is a long time for all of us to go without meeting. Courtin is just going to have to understand that I'm not here for her amusement. There's a reason I haven't pursued a more permanent relationship with anyone. I am a public safety officer, and dammit but terrorists don't choose convenient times to come calling.  
To make matters worse, I left without even waking her up. I needed to stop by my place before I went in to work, and I didn't have time to deal with what she wanted to discuss. I wonder if WacDonald's Apple Pies would work on her, probably should send flowers instead. My watch says it's 7am and I'm going to have to jet. Each of us have been given separate assignments, none of which can be discussed in here.

sssss

**A/N**: If you're watching the TV series, the only timeline I'm trying to stick with is the events of TLM. Anything else is interjected wherever I feel like it. As you can clearly see, I'm several episodes behind the current ones airing on AS. I haven't seen the ending. If you know the ending, please DO NOT spoil it for anyone else by stating it in a review. Most kind thanks!-TK


	7. Entries 61 70

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Ghost in the Shell. That is proudly owned by Shirow Masamune. This goes for both the movies and the Stand Alone Complex.

**Chapter 7**

If you haven't noticed, I've given up on trying to encrypt this diary. Instead I've implanted a nice little zinger file. If you don't know the password, it will erase your mind by the end of these entries.

Entry 61:  
Saito and Ishikawa have changed Togusa's name for him. Saito is calling him Columbo, while Ishikawa has taken to Don Quixote. Surprised that Ishikawa has read Cervantes's tale, both Batou and I are impressed he'd actually think to use the alliteration correctly. Togusa's tracing a phantom through a maze, but we have no doubt he'll expose it for the forgery it is. Tomorrow he's visiting some contacts hoping for anything that can give him direction in his search. Meanwhile, Batou's been sent in for some routine upgrades on his system, and Aramaki has informed me that I'll receive my newest assignment in the morning. That's either a very good thing, or a truly horrifying experience. No advance warning either means all the pieces haven't fallen into place, or he doesn't want to give me any time to find a way to be unavailable.

Entry 62:  
Oh yes, I'm going to skin the SOB. He didn't tell me ahead of time because he didn't want to give me a chance to take a dive on him. I'm heading in when he tags me on the secure line. "Major, I need you to appear at the Appellate building at 8am. There is a seminar of utmost importance. I would attend, but I have been called to a top level meeting to discuss security breaches across the public safety sector. Blah, blah, blah…"  
What was I supposed to say? We'd already talked about it. So I show up at the Appellate building early enough to realize that Aramaki probably scheduled his damn meeting to get out of this seminar. Fifty years ago, this building was where individuals would go to appeal sentences made against them. Today it sits as an old worn out shell used by governmental agencies to hold boring training seminars. Since it hasn't been upgraded, the AC is out; and between the heat and the noise of the box fans, it's almost impossible for any person to stay awake for an eight hour governmental seminar given by a monotone professor who sucks the energy out of the soul.  
Instead of being out and about, diving in the net and looking for a breakthrough in the LM case, I'm sitting in a room with forty other pathetic souls learning about environmental impacts and significant contributors to pollution. We have several exercises covering 'aspects and impacts,' which is a fancy way of saying that we look at what we do and determine how it affects the environment. I look around at the other people in the class, they all look like broom or paper pushers. I'm sitting in my usual clothing, two rows from the front, and the professor hasn't looked away from my breasts since he first laid eyes on me at 8:15am. I think I heard Aramaki laughing gently in my head around 10am. I realized by lunchtime that I was a worse distraction than the box fans. I'm the only woman in the room, and there are 39 government paper pushers trying to figure out who the hell I am. Talk about feeling like the odd…man, woman, cyborg, whatever…out.  
So we go through all these exercises, and the professor decides we need to share. Mechanical pencil man in the front row gets picked to go first. His A&I's are lab materials, paper, and Styrofoam. Leaking ink man goes next. He adds aluminum cans and electricity to the list of environmental impactors. I'm looking at my list and trying not to whistle under my breath. Finally after another fifteen minutes of comatose responses, they get to me. Now I have forty sets of eyes staring at me. I look at them, than I look at my paper. Then I look at them. Then back at my paper for good measure. I know what I wrote. It's very clear. A&I of Section 9: C-4, armor piercing rounds, electrical dive bombs, heavy caliber rifle rounds, hydraulic fuel, cyborg cleaning fluid, glycerin compounds. The list goes on for several pages. Blood and shrapnel are pretty close to the bottom, but they're included. Then I look at all these broom and paper pushers. These men who have subtly been trying to impress me all day. Note, it DIDN'T work. Then I look back at my list before grinning at the professor. "My biggest environmental concern is…coffee." Talk about a lame-ass item. I think it was number 94 on my list. But if you think about it, the other stuff was just too…security related. We do drink a lot of coffee. It has been known to fry a keyboard or two if spilled. That would be a reasonable response, if I had a normal job.  
Folding my list and stuffing it in a pocket in my jacket, I decided to make Aramaki eat it in the morning. We're a freaking special ops team, and he's got me attending environmental policy meetings in the middle of a major project. What a crime.

entry 63…  
im so mad i colud spit. tougsa went 2 the sunlfour group about taht danmed book. wile he was there, some military grup attked adn killd everyone. tog escped, but got shot dwn latr. today we found the s.o.b. i kikd his ass, but in the prcess, got my arm ripd off. good ting they hav a sapre body 4 me. tomorrow ill be swapd adn upgraded.

Entry 64:  
Looking back over yesterday, it sure is good to have both hands back. I suck at one-handed entries. Today opened up an entirely new avenue in both the case, and in my personal development. Late last night, Courtin came by and showered me with some feminine care. I hadn't told her about my accident because I didn't want to worry them; but she just seemed to know something was wrong. So, I asked her if she'd come with me for my body transfer. It's important to have a witness, to make sure your brain actually gets put in your new body, and someone doesn't freejack it and leave your brain to die. However, I kept her up too late last night, and she immediately fell asleep upon arrival at Megatech. Great watchdog she makes.  
This beautiful bitch, and I mean BITCH came in to the room. She had long hair pulled up and glasses perched sexily on her nose. Should have realized then that she wasn't a real doctor. No way would a nerd look that drop dead. Anyways, my folly. First thing she does is clamp me down and immobilize me. No big deal there, but she uses the opportunity to rub all over me. That's a little outside of professional procedure. Plus, I may be interested, but I'm neither cheap, nor easy. Then she sadistically starts shoving probes in my brain to turn off sensory sections. I'm aware that putting these things in is part of the procedure, I rip off an arm or leg annually. However, she's doing it in a manner that ISN'T approved. I look over, and Courtin is STILL asleep. So much for a witness too.  
Since the bitch has been keeping up a running dialog of what she's doing, why she's doing it, and how she's going to finish me off, I am aware that I'm probably going to cease to exist in the next few moments. Just as I was giving up on ever getting to make another scuba dive, TLM showed up. I believe I might just have me a verified stalker. Despite my deprived, actually pathetic, situation, I knew this wasn't a hallucination. I was staring at him, with him cybertalking to me, and that bitch was looking everywhere except at him. That's when I realized that he'd hacked her eyes. Nifty little trick. I might have been a little more impressed if I wasn't still mad over him having done it to Batou a few days ago.  
He walked up behind the bitch and without even touching a button on the console, downloaded all of his memories as well as showed me how to remotely control my other body. The truth allows me to pursue the real criminals, while the new party trick opens up a whole new can of whoop ass for me. Besides the military applications, I can have one hell of a good time playing pranks on all of my pals at Section 9. I digress. Once I remotely kicked that woman's ass, Aoi released me. Then I found a real doctor and started over. Courtin was very pleased with all the non-standard equipment that came with my new model. I just hope I get to keep it long enough to break it in.

Entry 65:  
Fifteen Starchild cappuccino latte's are NOT good for electronic circuitry. I know we're mostly immune to drugs like alcohol and caffeine; but at some point, the intrinsic filters get clogged and these chemicals get out into the bloodstream. It's now 4:37am, and I'm still bouncing off the walls. A potent mix, caffeine and adrenaline. But I kicked ASS today! Go me, go me, it's your birthday. Batou called me a poser, and HE'S RIGHT! But what fun this poser is going to have now that we're sitting on irrefutable evidence that Serano Genomics was behind the conspiracy to ban the Murai vaccine in favor of nanotechnology, which had not yet yielded satisfactory results against cyberbrain sclerosis. Not only that, but we have documented proof that the Minister of Defense is the person responsible for the last two terrorist attacks on the city, including the one that wiped out the Sunflower Group and took down Togusa. Sons of Bitches, I am SO looking forward to their removal from my world. Run-on sentences aside, I'm liking this caffeine effect. I might just add a double cappuccino latte into my daily routine.

Entry 66:  
Decided since I stayed up all day yesterday, and crashed after work; that I would actually write this in the morning today. Aramaki is heading to the PM's place today to let him know about the MoD. He's taking Togusa, since Columbo actually figured it out. We all agree he deserves the credit. Today is going to be a GREAT day!

Entry 67:  
Dogs may be man's best friend, but Batou is turning out to be a Motoko's best friend. That crazy man took on an entire platoon of heavy armor soldiers and mecha suits just to bring me the one item I've never been without…my watch. I didn't have the heart to tell him he could have saved the trip. I'd sent in a remote controlled droid to fetch it, and my diary. Why oh why did I decide to leave my most prized, and secretive possessions, at the house yesterday morning? While I was there, I put my underwear back in the correct drawers. Not exactly sure what happened there, and I know I don't want to know. I also picked up the chip'd remains of a Tachikoma. For some reason, I get the instinctive feeling like I might have made a mistake in my decision to have them decommissioned. Batou told me they saved his sorry ass and took down the last mecha suit by themselves.  
I only have a few minutes, Batou is in the shower, and I know that tonight and tomorrow are going to be absolutely chock-full of activities. We've been running from a cleaner team for several days now. To the best of my knowledge, everyone has been captured except Batou, and myself. Pazu and Ishikawa were able to leak the truth through our normal distribution chains, but we don't know how long it will take for the media hackers to find and make sense of it. I haven't heard a cyber peep from Boma in a long time, and I'm very afraid he may be off-line. However it falls out, Aramaki had better have an iron-clad reason for leaving us to the slaughter. He's never abandoned us before, and I can't imagine that he would do this unless his hands are tied.  
On a side note, lug-head got his arm smashed retrieving my watch. I am very lucky to have such a friend and partner by my side. If I have to go through hell, there's no other person I'd rather be with. Of course, I'll never admit that to him. I'm sure there are ways I can make tomorrow up to him, tonight; but I suspect that anything I do would give away my hand. We have a lot to do before the morning, I just hope another night without sleep will not adversely affect his functionality.

Entry 68:  
Today was rough. It was singularly the roughest experience of my life. The morning started with Batou helping me to dress. I hate being helpless, irregardless of who my helper is. We had called for a lift, giving up and accepting defeat. They would take us in and extract all data, allowing us to stand trial for our many imaginary heinous crimes against the country. As we sat in the lobby, neither of us had anything to say. I'm sure Batou was in his own little world, he tends to go a little apeshit on me when I'm in danger, and we both had a clear understanding of what had to happen.  
It was really a Coppola moment, like a scene out of "Apocalypse Now." The sun was coming up between the Public Security building and the Telelife scraper. Batou must have stopped to look at it. The light was golden, with a red tinge. A really good writer might describe it in lucent terms, some type of foreshadowing involved as well. All I can say is that it reminded me of danger, the vibrant red that harbors ill-will for sailors and other travelers alike. Suddenly I heard the faint sound of choppers, and Batou was screaming at me. Just as I turned, click, and I had lost connection.

Entry 69:  
Motoko Kusanagi + Waiting for Freedom EXTREME BOREDOM. If I could temporarily off-line, I would. I've gotten very good at single person chess and mahjong. Nothing's going on, so I've not been writing. So much for keeping myself informed of what I've been doing. Maybe I need to go to a diary priest. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It's been a month since my last entry." However, since I don't exist, do I really need to seek absolution? Ah, here I go. See what I mean. If I don't get out of this situation soon, I may start having cyberbrain schizophrenia. How cool would that be? I could talk to myself, and myself, and myself, and other people, and myself. How pathetic, I can't even get online. All I'm left with is mahjong, and any voices in my head.  
Speaking of voices, TLM has been visiting me a lot lately. He found a way to travel through the net to my brain, without being detected. Probably the same methods he used to take control of other people. I told myself I had a stalker. Since neither one of us has been free to do anything else, he's as much a prisoner right now as I am, we've traveled many philosophical roads together. I want to meet this man. Or at least, I think he's a man. If he's a woman, she has the most male-patterned thought process of any being I've ever met. I have nothing better to do, so let me describe what I think he looks like. His voice has always been deep and gravelly, but voices and bodies don't always mix. So, I won't make a guess as to the body. However, he's probably in his fifties, a definite CBS sufferer. He says that when all of this is finally finished, we'll have to meet. I hope so, there are questions I require answers to. Oh look, I just finished another game.

Entry 70:  
I know, but it's sacrilegious to confess to an imaginary priest. It's been another two months since my last entry. The chief finally sat down with us and explained what happened. He went to the PM, laid out the evidence; and was told that they wouldn't do anything to the MoD because it was too close to the election and he would certainly lose if it was discovered that he'd had criminals of that magnitude on his staff. So, he told our boss that he had to sacrifice the Section 9 team in the short term so that the PM could be re-elected and clean house, providing a less corrupt government long term. It sucked pretty hard for all of us, since we were all labeled as fugitives and hunted down like criminals. He took Togusa with him because he is the only completely human member, and Aramaki knew he wouldn't survive a full-blown battle. So, I guess you could say that he sacrificed his queen in order to save the bishop. A risky move, but it paid off. As the sacrificial lamb, it took some adjustment on my part.  
His message to me to stay alive was what gave me the idea to do the body transfer. It was complicated since I actually had to get my brain put back in my old body, without the help of the Megatech transfer chambers. I actually stole a page from TLM, and found a way to load my ghost files into the net, becoming one with the system long enough for Batou to do the physical transfer. I still wonder if everything got transferred back properly. I've been acting a little more girly ever since that incident.  
Speaking of girly, I was SO WRONG in my idea of what TLM looked like. Not only was he NOT drop dead gorgeous; but he was only nineteen. How a kid that young could cause us that much grief is beyond me. Ishikawa was all for taking him out if we ever met him, but I told him that TLM would be a great asset IF we could get him on our team.  
Well, guess again. While Batou went out to snag Togusa before he could assassinate the MoD, I ran TLM to ground. TLM kindly turned me down. He's in the beginning stages of CBS. However, he has a more advanced linkage system than me, two times more linkage ports. I'm jealous as hell. Anyways, since he has more cyber/brain linkages, he is going to progress into the higher stages of CBS quicker than normal. The chief popped in and said he'd do what he could to help him. TLM said thanks, and that he'd keep an eye on things and let us know if he finds anything critically suspicious. I guess that's better than nothing.  
When I got back to base, Togusa hugged me until Aramaki cleared his throat. Togusa just blushed and said he was really glad that his short trip into insanity was only that, a short trip. The guys are all going out for drinks tonight. I've been invited, but I already have plans. There's a certain someone who has taken very good care of me during the recent difficult situations. I'm going to do a little payback by buying dinner and showing a good night on the town. It's the least I can do.

**A/N:** The nice thing about working on several things simultaneously is that when my brain seizes up on one set of stories, I can work my way around to some others. Thanks to all of you who have keep up with this long-running, randomly updated fic. I don't know if there will be an update between now and 2nd Gig. I'm kinda out of material. However, miscellaneous stuff happens all the time, and there might be another 10 entries in there somehow. I hope you have enjoyed what has already been written, and I will see you when I next update. -TK


	8. Entries 71 80

**Disclaimer: **Well, my short hiatus is over. GITS starts up next week and the proverbial writer's juices are flowing again. This chapter has nothing to do with 2nd Gig, but when I reach 10 entries, I post. By the way, if you haven't already figured it out…I'm not Shirow Masamune, and I don't own any rights to these characters. All I own are the literary rights to whatever activities and thought they do/have that aren't from the published works. I also don't own the rights to any electronic pets that may appear in this chapter. I cannot sell this or make money off of it, and I don't have any interest in that anyways. Enjoy.

**Chapter 8  
**Yada, Yada, if you're reading my diary, you better pray I'm dead. And with my new knowledge of cybernet ghosting, death might not be final. Last warning.

Entry 71:  
I knew that damned environmental class would come back to haunt me. Since it's been so slow around here after the conclusion of the Laughing Man case, Aramaki decided we needed to integrate this new environmental protocol into our system while we had the time. He sat down with the book, the one with the notes I jotted in the margins; and broke the assignments into parts. Each of us has two section, and Aramaki is overseer of all.

He gave me the chapter in which I'd written notes on the margin about what I'd like to do to the professor if he didn't quit looking at my breasts. He also handed me the one where I'd drawn a picture of Aramaki hanging from a tie. It was a very busy tie, the guy who breathed on my neck all day was wearing it. I felt it was fair to use that tie as a weapon of death, it had implications of terror for me, and who had I most wanted to die that day?

The problem with writing pithy comments, is that I only wrote them during the extremely boring parts. So, now I'm in charge of "Hazardous Materials Permitting and Reporting" and "Governmental Records Retention Schedules." Where's a bad tie when you need one?

Entry 72:  
It's been two solid weeks of environmental compliance. All of us are becoming loopy. I actually had a discussion on a chat channel last night about the usefulness of the new SARA Title III International Legislature on catching illegal procurement of explosives. That conversation prompted me to leave and find Courtin just to make sure I was still sane. She set things right, and I felt much better until I came in today.

Ishikawa ended up with the Waste Disposal sections. They include both non-hazardous and hazardous materials. By 2pm, he was beginning to get this rabid wolf-hound look to him. At four, he leaned over and informed me that no torture method ever devised matched what the government did with their fucked up regulations. I had to agree.

He told me that tomorrow was going to be a whole new ballgame. If he didn't do something fun, he was going to go nuts. I'm too afraid to ask; but since I was planning on faking my own death, I guess I can hold off for another day or two.

Entry 73:  
Ishikawa has started playing pranks on the androids; you know typical android pranks. We've been watching him do small things for the last two weeks, but today put him in the big leagues. He came up to me this morning and told me over coffee, he enticed me with a double cappaccino dammit, that he'd read an archive about an old final exam prank. Thirty years ago, two college students at TTI physically removed all the keys on the keyboards in their "Advanced Computers" lab and replaced them in incorrect positions, just to see who actually knew how to type. Laughing, he leaned over and told me that it caused a riot among the students because no one could find the keys they needed. The pranksters had put all the keyboards the same, and the class spent most of their final figuring out the correct combination. "Let's try it on the droids" he whispered. I just looked at him. How old is he again?

So, I'm not sure how I ended up being the distraction, I suspect it was his seductive promise of a week's worth of cappaccino that did it. Ten minutes later, I walked into the networking room and grabbed the supervisor, holing him up in his office talking about a theoretical networking issue I'd just come up with. Ishikawa reprogrammed the key sequences on the keyboards in half that time, but left me hanging out with the lecher for an extra laugh. I'm going to get even for that.

Anyways, two of our droids went on cybernetic trips, guts bursting out of their skulls. I had a momentary flash of guilt, but I know they can be easily reformatted and put back on line. It's not like they have souls or anything. Since the androids are hard programmed as to what keys to press to get what letters, when gibberish showed up on their screens, they started network chat. It didn't take long before they'd overpowered their cerebral capabilities. Because they are not capable of thinking on their own, they weren't able to figure out there was a problem with the keyboards. Dr. Akai ran in and figured out what was going on in less than two minutes. Screaming at the supervisor, he didn't see the two of us sneak out.

Entry 74:  
I'm telling you, environmental compliance documentation isn't good for any person's sanity. At least we're having fun despite the insanity of this program change. Dr. Akai hasn't figured out who the mastermind is behind the pranks, but he's getting warmer. Good thing we didn't forget to turn the monitoring system off-line during today's attempt.

Ishikawa went in for his routine maintenance and they decided to do a brain case swap. He asked if he could borrow his old body for a few hours. It was slated for destruction and meltdown the next day, so one of the employees at Megatech agreed if he had it back by 5. I think I might be spending too much time around Ishikawa because he didn't have to ask me twice this time. No, I'm just bored out of my mind. Oh wait, all I have is a mind, so I guess I'm bored IN my mind.

Android Sally, we call her Sally because android Silly would just be cruel, was the victim of this one. She walked through the maintenance dock to find Ishikawa's arm on the floor. She picked it up and looked at it with concern. She's one of the brighter androids. We've thought about promoting her to head android; but it wouldn't be worth the trouble. They don't care about status, and they don't get paid.

Togusa and I were hiding in the upstairs conference room, barely peaking out over the edge of the windowsill. Yes, Ishikawa has been recruiting. There are now four devious devils running amok at S9. Saito isn't having any of it; and we think Boma has a crush on Sally, so we made sure not to invite him. Well, Sally's looking around for Ishikawa. Finally she sees him, he's trapped under an incendiary device. Knowing he's hurt, and her programming telling her not to touch the bomb, she starts running for the door.

Player number 4, Batou, snuck in and removed the shell. Suddenly Ishikawa walked around the corner and asked her what's wrong. Startled, she whipped back to the device to find that…he's not there. Togusa and I are both sniggering, hands over our mouths…just in case she can hear us through the glass. We can almost smell the smoke come out of her processing unit. Suddenly, she turned back to him, handed him the arm, and told him she thought he might have misplaced it. We lost it. Batou came back in, carrying Ishikawa's shell, to find Togusa in the middle of a hysteria caused asthma attack, tears streaming down his face. I was a little more dignified, or at least I wasn't crying. He just shook his head and carried the body out to Ishikawa's car.

Entry 75:  
Today, Ishikawa went a little too far. One set of the droids were scheduled for their annual fluids exchange. Ishikawa snuck into Dr. Akai's office and swapped the synthetic oil with expresso. You ever seen an android on expresso? "Hhheeeeeellllllllllllooooooo, he, h h…..I…feel, funnyIfeelfunnyIfeelfunnnwha's hapng2me……." You get the picture. I had to chuckle. I thought I had kept it to myself, but those grey eyes of Batou can always see right through me. _Major, we're going to get in trouble if we don't stop._ I didn't have anything to do with this prank, so I zipped it and walked back to my office. It took Dr. Akai all day to catch the androids and then drain and replace their fluids. I would feel remorse for adding to his job, except I think he gets sadistic pleasure out of tearing androids apart and rebuilding them. I sometimes hear maniacal laughter coming from the labs and wonder if he's not related to Jekyll. He kinda looks like him.

I feeeeeeel funnn. Sorry, that just slipped out.

Entry 76:  
This morning, in between "(lack of) mission update" and "environmental compliance review", we officially awarded Dr. Akai the "Least likely to dance on a table" award, he wasn't amused. Ten minutes later, Aramaki's on our asses about our serious lack of seriousness. Serious lack of seriousness? We all broke out in laughter. Ever seen a Leprechaun get pissed? You don't want to.

After screaming at all of us that if we were going to act like children, he was going to treat us like children, he gave us homework. No, not work you take home. Fucking open the book, read the chapter, and do the problems type homework. I swear that man knows more about us than we do ourselves sometimes. Each of us was given our most dreaded subjects. I've got four chapters of Marketing to do tonight. Marketing? I'm a government funded cyborg. I don't buy, I destroy. However, Ishikawa received the worst punishment of all of us. Aramaki gave Ishikawa an English book and told him to diagram every sentence in the first three chapters. I think I actually saw his ghost leave his body when he heard the assignment.

Entry 77 :  
Well, we finished our assignments and have slumped into inactivity depression again. Batou's been whining all week about it being boring here at work and at home; so Togusa and I pitched in and bought him a Tamagotchi. You know, the little electronic pets. I read about them in my marketing book (yes, I actually DID read the book), and thought it was a good idea. It was hard to find a dealer, they've been off the market for fifteen years. We bought a cute little…I don't know, it was furry with big eyes, and a beak. It looked like a chicken…monster…cat.

Batou gave us both funny looks, pressed some of the buttons, and threw it in his pocket. When I showed up for lunch, he was sitting at the table with an uneaten meal. As I approached, he shoved something in his pocket and picked up his fork. Not saying a thing, I sat down across from him. Ignoring the noises emanating from his pocket, I ate leisurely.

We've been trying this new soba shop out, and I think they were attempting chipped beef and gravy over noodles. It didn't taste too bad. The food went great with the electronic chirping coming from the big guy's pants. Several of the people around us turned and looked at him curiously. However, when a little kid ran up to him and asked him why his pants were chirping, while pointing at his…bulge, he admitted defeat.

He cyberthreatened me. _I swear if you mention this to a soul, I'll…read your diary._ Oh he did not. Well, yes he did. Rolling my eyes at him, I went back to eating. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the toy and blipped some buttons before showing it to the kid. Satisfied this man's…didn't have some magical powers he'd missed out on, the little boy ran back to his table. I looked over at Batou and asked him if he'd killed it.

That's when he went into this doctoral thesis about how it was hungry. Then he informed me he has to feed it every twenty-two minutes, give or take fifteen seconds, or it starts chirping. I can just imagine him handing it to Aramaki and asking him to feed it, as he's suiting up for a critical ops. Batou broke me out of my humor when he stated he figured out the algorithm after three episodes. Then he told me he was just waiting for it to beep when I showed up and he shoved it in his pocket because he didn't want me to think he liked it.

I swear, Batou can be so strange sometimes. I'm going to have to tell Togusa to scuttle his plans for an electronic dog.

Entry 78:  
Woo Hoo! Finally some action! And I'm not talking about the kind that happens at home. A small insurgent group of terrorists from Singapore showed up today. Singapore, who would have imagined? They started blasting away at the civies, so S6 was called in. As S6 arrived, they pulled out the big munitions and started taking out S6 mechas. S9 got involved at that point.

We did a short distance drop, and took out the tank. Well, Batou took out the tank. I was gathering my mind from where it'd shattered on the way down. Not physically, I'm being metaphorical here. Lt's just say that high velocity cold air can be very stimulating on the new non-standard features of this shell. I'm going to have to start wearing pants on drops.

After I'd come back to my senses, Batou screaming at me to get my ass out of the line of fire helped, I whipped around and took out four armed intruders who were trying to penetrate the razor-wire fence by ramming it with a truck. Razor wire bends, and doesn't give way. Not that it mattered, they never got as far as the secondary fence. One second they were revving the engine, the next it was ten degrees warmer as a giant fireball sent them to Hell.

When we got back to base, Aramaki quizzed me about my lapse. I told him I hadn't been in any combat with the new shell yet, and I had a linkage problem. He didn't believe me, but he dropped the subject. One thing about the man, he can take a hint.

Entry 79:  
Today was a very sad day at the office. We experienced a death in the family. Maybe I need to clarify. Batou experienced a death in his family, and we all got to suffer it with him. He's had his Tamagotchi a month, who knew it needed batteries replaced frequently. Apparently they don't make SR-60 batteries any longer either. How were we to know?

Batou came in first thing and rushed over to Togusa, pointing at the little blue box in his hand and waving his hands around frantically. I couldn't hear what he was saying because I was standing next to the coffee machine. Tt's been relocated to a sealed room that requires security access to get in. Dr. Akai doesn't forgive very easily, guess who had to hack the system to get his own access…

Suddenly Togusa turned, saw me, and wiggled his finger. It was the universal 'come here' sign, so I rolled my eyes, added one more ice cube, and headed out of the box. When I walked out, Batou was yelling. "What the fuck! It's been sick all weekend, I can't do anything to it to make it well. You've given me a pet, and now it's going to die on me." He turned to me and glared. "It's like giving flowers at a funeral, all they do is die too."

I glared at him. "You leave them on the grave so you don't have to watch it happen." At the pathetic little 'beep,' I zoned in on the toy. "The battery is dying." I opened the back and read the number. Batou was watching over me like a mother…what did I call that thing again? I could tell he was worried I'd take the battery out and kill his child. It actually had two batteries, an ingenious idea to prevent possible premature character death. If only we had that option for characters in anime shows.

We walked to our office and did some research to see if we could find a replacement. Unfortunately, they haven't made that type of battery in five years. We searched through archives for any store that might carry them, but we were unable to find a replacement. I've never watched anything electronic die before. It was a sobering experience. I hope if I go out, it's quick. I certainly don't want to fade away by making feebler and feebler off-tone chirps. By four, Batou's electronic pet was dead. Togusa took it home to bury it in the back yard beside his daughter's first fish. He said he had the perfect casket, an old satin lined cigar box.

Batou said he was leaving early to go have a drink. I offered to assist him, but he turned away and said he needed solitude tonight. I felt so bad that when I got home, I set up a program to activate in case something ever happened to me. In the off-chance I cease, for whatever reason, a certain person will be contacted with the information and financial resources to find Batou a real dog. Although I'm tempted to request a Jack Russell Terror, er, Terrier; I think a Bassett is the better choice.

Entry 80:  
"I think I'm turning Legalese, I think I'm turning Legalese, I really think so, m-m m m…m m m-m…" Day 30 of the Environmental Death Squad (EDS). That's our new name. We've decided that we're being short-listed because of our propensity to uncover really bad things within the governement. REALLY BAD THINGS. Instead of just locking us in cars and compacting us, it's to be death by regulations. Today Aramaki dumped records in our laps from environmental compliance reports done over the last…seven years. Yup, EDS, that's us. After work, I invited everyone over to watch a movie. It's so rare that I do that, so I found myself sitting on the couch with every member of the EDS, except for…good gracious, I just realized I'm so Environmentally ingrained that I've started using acronyms in my own diary. This is pathetic.

Aramaki-less, we settled down to watch a movie of Togusa's choice. Have I ever mentioned that Togusa is what people refer to as an 'old soul?' I think we could have survived some gangster black and white film from the forties. We definitely could have handled a Kurosawa. What we got was…'Valley Girl.' After about ten minutes, we all decided we hadn't had enough to drink. Damned metabolism control system. Anyways…like we totally got blitz'd. Not really. But we demoted Togusa to EDSMWCPM (Environmental Death Squad Member Who Can't Pick Movies). Ishikawa said next week's movie night is going to involve a flick called "Office Space."

**A/N:** I hope everyone's had a great last few months. Trying out a new format, It'd be nice if someone would let me know if it's better or worse than my original method. Thanks.


	9. Entries 81 90

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any rights to any Miyazaki Hayao masterpieces. Shirow Masamune is a genius. My IQ is slightly lower. Shirow Masamune owns the intellectual rights to GITS. Again, I fall short. Bandai and Production IG own rights to the anime, and Kodansha/VIZ own Manga rights. I also fail to own any rights to these. That makes me a financial…loser. And you…a literary winner. Please enjoy this free fanfic update based upon their characters.

ssssss

Ah, Hell. If you're reading this, I'm obviously not in a position to stop you. Do me a favor; don't crease the corner of the page if you decide to put it down for a while. I didn't crease the pages when I was writing this thing...please respect my wishes. Also, if Togusa is still around, tell him that I finally figured out what his haircut reminds me of.

**Entry 81:**

Today is…grey. No, not the right word. As I sit here in mediocrity, the shadows of the buildings we pass reflected in my soul, I wonder what my life is heading towards. Looking out at the brilliant blue of the sky, small marshmallow clouds floating across, I don't see a future.

Today is…indifferent. Yes, that's better, I guess. Section 9 has been back together for over a month. Let me rephrase. I'm so 'blah' today that I almost don't care that I'm saying things incorrectly. Section 9 has OFFICIALLY been back together a month. And what a month. First we stormed in and took back a group of the hostages, as a secret ops team with no name.

Then we were assigned this job of babysitting. I hate babies. Especially fully grown ones. Well, that's not entirely true either. Once I thought it might be interesting to have a child…someday. When I learned that I would never have that option…I wanted one dreadfully. I wanted the ability to create a new being, a demi-clone of myself and the sperm donor, whomever he was to be. However, that option is out and I take on sister-figure roles to my team. So, again…I HATE babies. Especially good-looking adult ones.

Who am I fooling? If I'm not allowed to do the job I was designed for, than I don't mind following the PM around everywhere she goes. She's intimidated by me. I can tell by the way she cuts her eyes over to look at me when she doesn't think I'm watching. She looks at me almost as if she's checking me out. However, I recognize what it really is. She's wondering if women give up something by becoming machines. I would have to tell her they do. Am I still a woman? Was I ever really a woman? Does it matter? I'm a ghost. Not actually living, not dead either. I float around between reality on earth and reality on net. It's much like being stuck between body and spirit and never able to actually transition. So, why does this ghost sit beside the PM, babysitting? Because the chances of me actually 'ghosting out' are slim, and I'd rather not live with the preventable death of a good politician in my head.

So, there she sits, looking at me. I'm a rock. She moves with the car, small fleshy parts shifting as we round corners. I don't. We take a corner, everything stays exactly where it is. Gravity doesn't affect this body. Time doesn't affect this skin. The woman beside me has gained one wrinkle and three new grey hairs since I started sitting beside her. I won't. I have seen more in my cyborg life than she's been alive to see, grey hair not withstanding. Time only affects my memories, skewing them slightly with outlook changes, like the sepia tint that comes to black and white from silver oxidation. Once I looked through eyes un-tinted by war. Now I look with eyes that can understand terrorism against a political party's decision…even if I don't agree with it.

The car is slowing down, and my mental capacities are sharpening as the net chatter picks up. The woman beside me asks if we're ready. I give her an affirmative response, a professional smile, and pull out my gun before opening the door. It's back to work, and musings will have to wait for the long drive back.

**Chapter 82:**

It's restless at camp. I once read a story about two boys who had decided to spend the night in the woods. Every small sound made them jump, causing them to be too haggard and grumpy to enjoy the beautiful sunrise the next morning. That's the way I feel our team has been. We've been looking for the rest of the members of the individual eleven so hard that we might be missing the big picture.

I would like to talk with Batou about my concerns, but he's been acting rather strangely lately. I'm not sure I understand what's going on with him, but our cyber chat time has become more accusation than free debate and I'm dealing with enough of that with the chief. Aramaki may not be saying anything publicly, but we both feel the effects of this new assignment. I wonder why we're wasting our time and he's worried about something he's not ready to discuss. That leaves our conversations short and unproductive, like coming this close to completion and having someone walk into the room.

**Chapter 83:**

I actually got to have a little fun today. Sometimes my job really is enjoyable. We've been doing extensive research, and we just started incorporating the fractured Boolean logic the tachi's have developed to follow fractal patterns towards a logical conclusion. The Tachikomas have become fully integrated with each other, almost like a collective. Now that I understand their illogic, they don't bother me. However, the rest of the team does not agree. The tachi's have learned how to dive in and out of cyber-channels, including those that we're speaking on. I won't divulge who taught them that trick, but it's pretty useful. The tachi's, being the emotional equivalent of about eight, employ this tactic to 'walk' into private conversations and blatantly interrupt with their own comments.

Twice today, Ishikawa threatened to strip their AI cards out if they didn't leave him alone. Although I didn't see it, apparently it was done for the enjoyment of the rest. Hearing obvious sounds of distress, I ran down the hall and whipped into the room, gun in hand, to find Batou and Boma chuckling heartily and Togusa on the floor with tears in his eyes. He looked up at me, face turning red, and howled. Apparently one of the blue devils jumped into Ishikawa's screen and did a wild imitation of some dance called the "Macarena." Given that he was so angry I could almost see the steam, I decided enough was enough and walked down to the tech room to discuss proper 'serious business' etiquette with the komas.

Once everything got back to business again, we found it, that proverbial needle. Tsutomu Tadokoro was part of a small cyborg systems company that later became CIS. What a wonderful connection, guess that means I get to wear my zoot suit again tomorrow.

**Chapter 84:**

Today was one of those days. Rotten waxed Asian pear comes to mind. It looks good until you bite into it and find the wax is the only thing holding the rotten fruit together.

I love zoot suit days. On my 'cool' meter, dressing in optic camouflage and hacking into a high-security facility is somewhere between nitrox diving and Saito's newest sniper weapon. It's the thrill of possibly getting caught, knowing that no amount of political leverage would save my electronically enhanced ass. The kids wanted to come out and play, so I brought them with me. They've made another iteration on their Boolean systems, they call it fractal'd boo. Now, they're the mental age of a teenager. I wanted to see what they could do. If they'd gotten as good as they'd bragged they were, we'd have one hell of an ace up our sleeve. If not, well I could still handle it solo.

They actually lived up to their expectations. Don't ask me to go into the conversation that resulted from that compliment. I have no real interest in learning how they used 'fractal'd boo' to figure out their margin of success, and their explanation only caused me to desire a heavy nano-tranquilizer. All that aside, they successfully broke down all seventeen layers of i-security and quickly distracted the overseer long enough to allow me to complete the physical hack.

What was that earlier? Oh yeah…wax. This is about the time in which I picked up the fruit. I should have squeezed it first, just to check; but I was feeling a little cocky. Cracking THE Central Intelligence Systems can do that to a girl. We needed answers, that's why I was in the building, wearing my favorite clothing. The CIS had the information we needed in order to figure out who was behind the sudden bombing spree. It didn't have the feel of the individual eleven, but it was no less threatening. Armed with my unique sidekicks, we headed into the core to find what was there.

The answer was actually a who; and what that who had to say, made me re-evaluate my game plan on everything. It was that first bite in which the fruit doesn't slide into your mouth, crisp and sweet. It oozes with a sour rotten sliminess. I was in such disbelief of what I was hearing that I almost waited too long to heed the koma's warnings that I was in danger of exposure. I can't allow myself to become that unguarded again. If I'd divulged my information two seconds later, Togusa would have died. I am bothered that my absentmindedness could have yielded such an outcome.

Chapter 85 

This morning was filled with tense meetings and large decisions; the kind of decisions that a single person shouldn't make. Aramaki and I hashed out some of the logistics of the decisions in front of us. Then we decided we were ready. Just before lunch, I informed the rest of the team we were going to be having a business lunch. Togusa grimaced and I had to smile. Batou informed me of Togusa's recent experience with nano-food. Sure it tastes like cardboard to him, but the nanobots in it cause our bodies to interpret it as flavorful. Walking up to him, I crossed my hands over my chest. "You've worked with us for eight years, and two days ago was your first experience with nano-food. Don't worry, the Chief's ordering yours right now." Chagrinned, he sat down and quit talking for almost four minutes.

Over various types of food, we discussed the implications of an entire immigrant population being turned against the land that has given them an opportunity to start over. War's not fair and we were the victors. We gave them a chance to start over, they can't expect to be treated as equals. Only Americans try to do that, and look at the current state of their affairs. With the newly gained knowledge that 'terrorist' just became any Asian person, we're now facing a serious personnel shortage in Sector 9.

After a long debate, the team finally agreed that we needed to be a little larger. The Chief said he'd start looking for potential candidates and to give him a couple of days. With that almost impish gleam in his eye, he said not to worry; he had plenty for us to do over the next few days.

Chapter 86 

We spent today doing drills in the downtown district. After the fiasco with the ghosted Fuchikoma, Aramaki said we had several critical weaknesses. The Tachikomas took the Chief's comments to heart and worked out a strategy. Then they badgered the Chief until he told them they could do mock drills on the first slow day. Today definitely qualified as a slow day.

Batou and Togusa took up corners, observing and distracting, while I scouted on ahead. I was the target and the Tachikomas did a fairly good job keeping up. The three of us agreed that we would use today as an opportunity to develop a training exercise for the newbies. We don't have a lot of time to work with them, so we need a quick way to sort qualified candidates from those that will hinder us. By the end of the exercise, Batou, Togusa and myself had put together a solid strategy for testing the teams.

The Chief and I had a slight disagreement about the teams he's putting together. He's been looking only at enhanced humans or full cyborgs. I told him we could use a few more humans. He actually glared at me. Then he turned to look out the window. "So, you're going to become a group of high-tech babysitters to a team of humans now?" I couldn't believe he said that. I told him that they'd have to grow up sometime, and that they would get with the program or get out. His response bothered me. He turned, putting his hands in his pockets, and leaned forward. "Just like you've let Togusa sink or swim."

Damn him. We need the non-linear thinking of pure human, but he's correct. If we had only humans added to the team, we'd feel obligated to protect them from the scum we run down. I told him to recruit as he saw fit and walked out.

Chapter 87 

It's strange, but I think I saw a ghost today. How funny, a ghost saw a ghost. One second I was running from the guys during the mockup of an invasive strike, the next I was standing in an empty alleyway that had no connection to my physical location. I'd always blown off the rumors that the third-market sector was filled with unsettled spirits. Today made me re-evaluate the validity. Turning and going back around the corner, I was once again where I should have been. When I retraced my steps, the vision was gone.

I called Alice and asked if she could meet me for lunch on Sunday. She agreed and I know what she's thinking, but she's got to realize by now that I'm no fun when in business mode. Until this terrorist issue is resolved, I can't set aside my job. Aramaki said the first set of recruits would be here tomorrow. He informed us this morning that there were nine groups and we'd test in sets of three. Togusa's already complaining that the tests are too difficult, but we're not playing games. This newest threat is a serious issue. He's crazy if he thinks we can hire children and expect them to 'come up to speed' at their leisure. They need to be able to jump right in and do the job. If not, we're going to be scraping corpses off the engagement field.

Chapter 88 

Damn Batou and his decision to work near the third-market sector. I spent the entire day looking over my shoulder. I wonder what's causing my ghost to jump so badly. My body has no predisposition towards nerviness. The first team was a total wash. Two short turns and the entire group was standing around looking about as comfortable as a veterinarian at a quantum physics convention.

Teams two and three were not much better and we were done by lunch, so Aramaki put us on paper-detail. In a world controlled by network, I'm occasionally amazed by the amount of paperwork required to keep a secret government agency running. Just like the Americans, we have our own Sarbanes-Oxley records retention laws. I can't speak for the Americans but the government sector requires us to keep case documentation for the life of the perpetrator plus twenty years. It's giving us a greater incentive to kill the sons of bitches, just so we can eventually throw some of these damn records away. Since we work with cyborgs and androids, these records could be kept forever. Last year, when the special ops team came in to wipe us out, they also took out two of our records rooms. Although there were no remissions levied against that team for destroying over ten billion yen worth of government property, the head official of that mission ended up in prison for destroying records. Sometimes we have to laugh at the folly of the government we work for. Personally, I'm glad the documents were destroyed. They were from five years ago, and we've been able to turn those two storage rooms into nice training facilities.

Chapter 89 

Yawn Oh wait, did I say that out loud? Seriously, these plebes are horribly inadequate for our needs. Ignoring that slither that crawled up my back all day, I intentionally avoided third-market. I can't explain it, but something is drawing me. I'm eventually going to have to face it.

Today I took the possible recruits on a nice scenic trip through downtown. That included a nice trip through the fish markets, a trip through a first rate lingerie shop, and the park. I probably should have done the fish market last, because I garnered strange looks at the lingerie shop; but it also could have been because of the three menacing men that very obtrusively followed me in and back out. The park was my favorite. They got side-tracked by a small disturbance on the path behind me, and while they were paying attention to the two college students arguing about proper dating protocol, I jumped into a tree and sat and watched as they searched frantically for their target.

Batou called me back in a few minutes later, asking me why I'd chosen to deviate from our pre-constructed game plan. I told him that terrorists also picked very public places to do bad things and the teams needed to be prepared for any situation. When I arrived, he looked at me strangely, but I ignored him. Later, over a beer, he told me I was acting weird. I informed him that I wouldn't deviate tomorrow and that seemed to slightly appease him. I wish he'd go in for a tune-up, he's an emotional wreck right now.

Chapter 90 

So today while we were testing the last team of hopefuls, I took a short stroll and fell through the rabbit hole. I once watched a movie in which a little girl stepped through a dimension and found herself in a world of spirits. Today I became Miyazaki's Chihiro. Wow, that's twice recently in which life imitates art. I can't explain it any other way except to say it is completely unexplainable. Although I told Batou I would stick with the game plan today, I can't explain what made me suddenly turn and head in the one direction I've avoided all week. I can't begin to fathom how a ball suddenly caused my ghost to hum. I can certainly not explain the brain hack that caused the illusions. All I can say is that it happened.

When I got back to the station, Batou was extremely cold. My refusal to explain my disappearance hurt him; but the answers would have been worse. He worries too much, it's a bad habit. I can't say the feelings aren't reciprocated, but he's beginning to reach an unhealthy level of concern. The two of us have been friends for a very long time, and he should realize that we both have things which concern only ourselves. Tomorrow is Sunday, Alice agreed to meet me for lunch near the pier at third-market. I'm going to chase this ghost until I can catch it and lay it to rest, but it'll be nice to have some friendly company before I set out on that campaign.

**A/N:** Ah, patience…what a virtue. Thank you to all of you who read this fic and have been patient with me. Full-time job and full-time grad school full-time insanity. Please continue to be patient with me, and I will update as my schedule and my muse allows. -TK


	10. Entries 91 100

**Disclaimer:** Shirow Masamune as always, is a genius, and the intellectual owner of the GITS series. Bandai and Production IG own rights to the anime, and Kodansha/VIZ own Manga rights. Again, I fall short. I use the characterizations of his creations to tell mostly unique stories for the sheer joy of writing. I earn no monetary or material gain from these stories, thus they qualify as true fanfics. Enjoy.

**Chapter 10:**

What was it Batou once said about me needing to upgrade to a less girly model? If I remember correctly, that was just before he face planted himself, right? If you're reading this, don't make me get all 1980's on your ass and do the same thing. By now I'm assuming you're brain has been permanently melded to the pages. Please don't slobber.

Entry 91:

As I expected, Alice wasn't happy with the outcome of our lunch date. But she had several items to say that were well worth any future angst about my failure to deviate from professional mode. She told me that recently her office had been dealing with a phenomena they've started classifying as 'data-vu.' She said that new patients were showing up, with concerns about having already met people they'd never met before, and having memories of activities they'd never done before. She said their team hasn't been able to come up with any logical explanation for this, short of network overload and circuit bleed-through. Then she agreed to keep an ear open for any further information. She smirked and told me it'd be the usual fee and I told her to add it to the tab. That pissed her off, but I did get the small thrill of watching her stalk out of the restaurant before taking care of our bill and going back to work.

Entry 92:

After lunch yesterday, I decided I needed to get away from the political circus I've been performing in. So I told the Chief that I need a week off. The PM agreed with the request and said that since it would be a slow week, the other agents could handle things in my absence. Aramaki agreed. I secretly felt it gave him an opportunity to spend more time with the very cultured PM; but when I teased Aramaki about it, he admitted he was attracted and threw my delay in confronting him back into my face. I was surprised, since he'd just finished his affair with the Ambassador of England. Apparently age has no bearing on romance, although I could have gone another millennium without knowing Aramaki was that big of a player. I am finally home. It has been several months since I've been here. I hope repairs are complete, since I did not bringing a re-gen unit with me; but I really need to get away, even if it's only for a single day. Alice's comment about net-wide bleed-through has me concerned and I want some peace to think it through.

Entry 93:

All repairs are complete, and I slept like a log. I got up before the sun this morning, and ran my usual track. Down through the re-leafed trees that are still pitted with bullet holes. I was saddened to see that some of my treasured Ginko had been shredded by missiles. I will need to discuss with my gardener why these trees have not been removed and new ones replanted.

I passed the place where I found Batou, and would not have recognized the spot if I hadn't found a single piece of blue painted metal shining in a patch of light that had worked its way in through a missing branch. Picking up the piece and putting it in my pocket, I then continued down to the lake. There is a new chip on my favorite rock, somehow the gunfire came down this far; but it's still my favorite place to sit and reflect. It's been such a busy time that I haven't had much opportunity.

Despite what people think about me, I can slow down. I don't like to, as reflection is always followed by feelings of regret and resentment. Today was no different. As I sat with thoughts of my run in with data-vu and my vision from third-market, I couldn't help but wonder. If the male cyborg child had chosen a different path the day the girl cyborg visited, would they have stayed in touch? If they had, would they have made the same decisions?

I regret nothing I've done, how could I when my choices have helped save millions of lives over the years? However, there is always the opportunity to mourn the death of what can never be, that pathway not chosen, and that glimpse makes me think about things I'd rather ignore.

I once stood at the double pathway of the Fushimi-Inari shrine in Kyoto. It was humbling to realize that as a single being, I could only choose one path. Sure, I could come back and take the second path later, but it was physically impossible to simultaneously be on both paths. My life doesn't have the redo ability as the gates do. I can only choose one path, and the other is forever closed to me. I have chosen my path, and that is the one I will continue. However, occasionally I wonder where that other doorways would have led.

Entry 94:

This morning I was woken by the most disturbing sound. I'm used to gunfire, metal scraping against concrete, and general mayhem. But I can definitely mark this sound as new to my experiences. Courtin once had an alarm clock that crowed like a rooster. It was back in the early days, when she was young and we were still experimenting with synthoids to allow for mental stimulations…several body evolutions before this current model, which allows me to do things I'm no longer interested in doing. I remember telling her if it went off one more time, I'd rip it off the table and show her exactly how strong my hands were as I crushed it into tiny plastic and metal fragments.

I guess that's why the general pecking and clucking didn't really affect me the way the full out rooster crow did. I jumped out of the regen unit, gun cocked and pointed. I can't help but chuckle now, but it wasn't funny at the time. Standing on the other side of the window were two reddish brown roosters. I've had some time today to dive, so I've discovered that they are called Rhode Island Reds. No idea how a bird from North America ended up in my backyard, but it's the truth.

It was entertaining to watch them. I had no idea that roosters were so uncoordinated. Their jerks and sudden head turns reminded me much of an early robot. They were so jerky that I actually did a scan to determine if they were perhaps synthetic. My luck, the local porn club would be using birds to collect photos of naked cyborg women who live in remote locations and walk around nonchalantly in front of walls of windows. However, my scan revealed no signs of electronic signaling, and my study of them revealed no noticeable sign of intelligence.

Well, I modify that last statement, they appear to be fairly loyal…to whomever is talking to them. They walked around to the far side of the house and made a lot of noise until I walked over to where they were and started talking. It's obvious to me that someone has been treating them as pets. My walk to the mailbox was not done in solitary. I had two roosters trailing behind me, discussing what could only be the state of the environment. I have to admit I was bored enough to make up their dialogue.

"Well Roo, I think it might rain today."

"Stew, rain is good for the general state of the ecological system here. If we get enough, maybe we can go back to a Waldenesque-type world in which everyone looks for inner completion."

"Roo…"

"Yes Stew…"

"Would you shut up already? I really don't give a shit about Walden, or Thoreau in case you are wondering. I just want to follow this chick to the mailbox and back. Is that okay with you?"

"I guess."

By that point, I'd reached the mailbox. I'd tell you their discussion on the way back to the house, but at that point Batou broke into my delusional ramblings to tell me I was needed back at headquarters. Twenty minutes later, minus two roosters, I was headed back to the big city. My week off shortened to three damned days.

Entry 95:

I got another body replacement today. It was totally unexpected, was not a result of me doing my job, and Aramaki is not amused. Who knew stairs could be so very vicious. I tripped on the way up, hit my head on the top stair, and did what Batou calls a 'vaudeville' impression as I ricochet back and went tumbling down two flights. It's a damned good thing I don't have much spine below the top cervical vertebrae because when they finally got to me, I'd managed to mess up most of the artificial ones below it. I don't know how long I would have lain there while they discussed how best to pick me up if Batou hadn't called one of the tachikoma's in and had it pick my body up.

Now, I'm working at fine-tuning synapse responses so that I can get back to work. Aramaki said I wasn't to be there until the beginning of next week, but they didn't called me off of vacation just to be perverse and as soon as my reflexes match my instincts, I'm going to beard that lion in his den and get answers.

Entry 96:

Aramaki has been a little harder to pin down than I expected. I'm back on PM detail. I don't think either of us are particularly humored by the situation. I'm itching to see some action, and the PM is obviously going through a type of action withdraw that causes my tiniest servo units to shudder in revulsion if I happen to let my mind digress in that direction. We're both cranky as bears and not afraid to show it. Ironically, since Aramaki is the main reason, we've built a little bit of feminine camaraderie based around talking smack about the white headed imp of Satan. It's hard to hate a woman who can be as sarcastic as myself. At least it's gotten my mind off of the third-market thoughts for a few minutes.

Entry 97:

Today was an exercise in futility. But before I go further, let me state that Batou has a glitch in his system. Well, I'm not sure it's a glitch, as much as a quirk. The ultra sophisticated machine-man has a thing for black and white movies. Typically it's American Gangster movies, like the ones with Spencer Tracy or Humphrey Bogart. However one evening I stopped by to find him watching a comedy, I think it was an Abbot & Costello and had something to do with baseball. One of them was trying to explain the name of the players on each of the bases to the other one. It was an exercise in futility. After hearing my story, the quirky Batou reminded me that my experience qualified as an Abbot & Costello moment.

It all started with the Tachikomas. One of them downloaded an ancient program and was causing mass pandemonium because it couldn't run the program. Dr. Akai asked me to research the program and see if it was obtainable. With their current rate of evolution he realized that leaving this avenue unexplored would be more harmful than the risks associated with opening unknown file types. With my mission firmly understood, I set off.

I guess before I go any further I need to explain that Section 9 _is_ part of the judicial system. Thus said, we are a government organization. S9 may be a shadow branch of the organization, but we are still attached to the same trunk. And there are times and places to break the rules. This mission wasn't one of them. I can easily take the heat from IA on 40M yen of unauthorized firepower when the result is preservation of peace. But I don't sit comfortably across the table from those bloodsuckers for not following proper procurement protocol when ordering a small software package. Thus said, Abbot turns to Costello and says "Who's on First…"

First I had to find out what the file went to. It turned out to be an antiquated file extension belonging to a program made in the late 1990's. I got on the procurement system to find that this company was still being used for some of our secondary redundancy systems. Thinking that this would be easy and I'd still have time for some unscheduled target practice, I called procurement. The bitch whom answered the phone after a forty-five minute torture session with off-key hospital music, informs me that we cannot order that software.

"Can I order it as a non-standard material?" That generated a horrible screech and I suddenly felt the need to apologize for offending her ancestors. "Can I call the company up and ask them to send me the program and pay for it with my approved debit card?" That earned me a talking to that _my_ ancestors would have been offended with. I told her that I really had to have a copy of this program, and I suddenly don't need a vid phone to see her look down her nose at the phone and ask me why I thought I was so high and mighty.

I was tempted to tell her that my little known section housed seven extremely curious creatures whose sole responsibility was to wipe out the enemy with any methods available. However, I didn't think that was wise. Uptight pencil pushers aren't really ready for reality. So I told her that we had a really old forensics machine that used the software and we needed it in order to maintain peace. It was close enough to count.

She sighs very loudly and since she has me on speakerphone, I hear her chair squeak as she gets up and walks across the room to shut the door to her office. Hmmm, didn't realize I was talking to someone high enough to have her own office, but kudos for her. She sits back down and I can almost smell the coffee on her breath as she sighs heavily over the phone.

"I'm breaking every rule telling you this." I listen intently, now feeling like I'm on the inside of the sainted procurement group. You need to send me an email with justification for why you need this program." An email, that's it? She could have said that when we started, saved us both some grief. "I will send it back to you with the ordering information." So far, so good. "You'll then need to get on the requisition program and create a requisition." I'm almost smiling, it's too easy. "Your direct supervisor will need to approve it." Uh oh, Aramaki approving a new program, it will definitely raise his eyebrows. Then all seven procurement officers will need to approve the requisition." I'm now beginning to get a headache. "Once the document has been approved, it will no longer be in your control." I see a long night of placating Tachi's in my head. "I will then modify the request to state the program will be sent from stock." I think she must have heard my jaw drop because she chuckled evilly. "Oh yes, we have hundreds of copies, but since they are an old version, we have to receive justification and end use information before we can release the license."

At this point I felt like yelling Costello's "I don't give a damn" response; but I was just sure the bitch would be back on the line to tell me that those words were also part of the contract that I'd just made with the procurement nazi. By 5pm we had the program, but I was going home to a liquid dinner. Batou can keep his black and white movies. I'm sticking to Technicolor.

Entry 98:

Well, the good news is that the Tachi's got their program. The bad news is that the file they opened was the largest can of worms I've ever seen. Actually, I can't say I've ever actually _seen_ a can of worms, but we all know what I'm talking about. The files were e-stories, old books that predate WW3 and were digitalized sometime in the early 21st century. The questions coming from the Tachi's were so strange that I chose to review the files myself. The only way I can describe reading those files was to liken it to reading Jules Verne in 1990. Jules Verne was either from the future (ha ha) or he had the most prolific knowledge of self-fulfilling prophecy I've ever encountered. At least I used to feel that way about him until I started reading these accounts.

From my understanding, this author was a cult icon in some circles during his life, but he wasn't as well read as other authors of the time. They made movies out of several of his books, I'll have to research to see if I can find a fairly well preserved copy of one of them. He wrote about a phenomenon called a 'ghost in the machine.' This is what caused the Tachi's to go nuts. They've been studying to figure out the meaning of life and this just gave them more ammo. Months ago, I tried to explain to them that meaning is something all sentient beings search for. That they shouldn't get discouraged if they don't find it. Well, the little bitches just won't let it go. All afternoon they insisted they be called "Sonny." Two of them got into a fight about it and the techs had to come in and deactivate them. Curious, I started reading the material they were studying. After having read a particular file by this Asimov author, I understood the problem and was able to resolve the entire name issue by explaining that they were as individual as this Sonny and they needed to respect their own individualities by maintaining their own identities, or names.

But then came the question no logical explanation can answer. Of course it had to come from the bookworm. Damn her reading circuitry. "So, if we are sentient because of this 'ghost in the machine…' where did the ghost come from?" How the hell am I supposed to answer that? Batou was standing beside me when 'IT' happened. He shrugged his shoulders and made for the door, whimpering about munitions training. Damned coward, I will get even later. How am I supposed to answer a question I struggle with myself? How do a brain and a little bit of spinal material make up a being? How does a 'ghost in the shell' differ from a 'ghost in the machine?' And how do I know that seventeen body changes later, I'm still a shell instead of a machine? But the Tachi's don't understand. They blithely assume, like any young creature, that older means wiser. And to them, I'm more ancient than…well, not Aramaki. If I admitted that I didn't have all the answers, I would lose face and they would not obey direct commands because they would have diagnosed that I was the weaker being. They are still many evolutionary stages away from realizing that admitting a limitation shows more maturity and strength than bluffing. Since I'm the Alpha of this relationship, I knew this called for bluffing.

And who knows, maybe my explanation that electronic fields take on their own personalities and therefore things powered by electronic fields (AKA Tachikomas) can start to exhibit their own personalities, worked for them. It seemed to satisfy them and they finished perusing their files without further mishap. I myself took the opportunity to vacate the premises and look for a tall white-haired weasel carrying a gun. Making him huddle in a corner and plead for mercy made me feel marginally better. Maybe a good sci-fi movie would finish it out. I think I'll go for an action flick. Someone recommended "Blade Runner" to me. Surely it will take my mind off of my own concerns of ghosts.

Entry 99:

Dammit to hell! "Blade Runner" wasn't a diversionary tactic at all. Togusa is so dead. Just wait until I get back to the office. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately for a certain carbon based idiot, Aramaki has sent me out of the area on recon.

Entry 100:

I guess my retribution on Togusa will have to wait for a week or two. Damned human frailties. Two weeks out, I really don't want to recount how _that_ went, and I come back to find the organ bag missing. I remember him complaining about heartburn a lot recently, but I didn't think anything of it. Apparently, he didn't either. I remember Batou giving him a hard time about his short experience eating cyborg food. Togusa responded that the nanobytes had destroyed his insides and Batou had teased him saying how he'd probably been eating them for years and not knowing any better. Togusa threw a canned drink at him, getting the syrup all over the inside of the van. This only caused Batou to break out in raucous laughter and the two of them never brought the subject up again.

But seriously, there are things about being cyborg that aren't pleasant. Like brain-box transfers, for instance. It's a little disconcerting to know your entire existence depends on the skill level of inferior model androids and a power grid that can be tricky at times. General maintenance can also be a little humiliating. There are parts of my cyborg body I don't like anyone to see, but regularly have to expose to technician inspection and maintenance. Luckily for me, most of our maintenance is internal to Section 9. I dread the thought of some hack running his hands all over my innards.

Enough about my innards. I was talking about Togusa and his innards. Right after I left for recon, Aramaki found Togusa passed out in the bathroom. Aramaki got him to the medics and when Togusa came to, they found out that he'd been unable to hold anything down for several days. Aramaki does have a way of showing anger that frightens most people I know, and his cold assurance that Togusa would be well before coming back to work sent chills up the backs of everyone in the room, or so I've been told. After extensive tests, Togusa will have to confirm if they were as horrible as they sound, they found his Gallbladder had quit working properly. Apparently a gall stone had formed in the gland and moved into the ductwork connecting it to the stomach. The bile was backing up in the gland and causing him to be quite sick.

So here comes the part where I feel queasy for Togusa, and want to smack myself for that weakness. In order to get the gland out, the put four probes into his gut and maneuvered them around until the gallbladder was cut and the duct tied off. Then they removed the gland through one of the four holes and taped him up. Once he woke up, they packed him off home for his wife to care for. Aramaki said he'd be back on light duty next week and it'd be a few more weeks before he could get back on full-time active. Until then, Batou and I have partnered up again. Oh joy. I can just imagine the next few weeks of arguing about movies I don't give a shit about, and his incessant desire to own a dog. But, two weeks of antagonizing one of my closest pals is nothing compared to the thought of some medical android digging around in my gut, trying to remove organs that only exist to fail and infect my insides. Poor Togusa. Maybe I'll just let the movie thing go…

**A/N:**

Rumors of my demise… blah, blah. Thank you to each of you who continue to check on updates and gnash your teeth at me for taking so long. Blame my muse, he went out for chicken wings right after Christmas in 2005, and finally found his drunk-ass way home this weekend. Now I'm hoping he gets his groove over with before school starts back in two weeks. I need sleep!


	11. Entries 101 110

**Disclaimer:** Shirow Masamune as always, is a genius, and the intellectual owner of the GITS series. Bandai and Production IG own rights to the anime, and Kodansha/VIZ own Manga rights. Again, I fall short. I use the characterizations of his creations to tell mostly unique stories for the sheer joy of writing. I earn no monetary or material gain from these stories, thus they qualify as true fanfics. Enjoy.

**Chapter 11:**

Hopefully the last set of dreadful entries have put any reader off and I no longer have to issue these threats. However, if you are still foolishly snooping through my private journals, may God show mercy on your ghost.

**Entry 101:**

Note to Self: "Ishikawa is no longer allowed to be granted vacation…PERIOD."

Ishikawa comes into my office last week and tells me he needs a couple of days off. I don't respond because obviously I don't want to acknowledge the words coming out of his mouth. After a few minutes, he sighs. Are you diving or are you ignoring me? Ah well, can't hide forever. I ask him if he's talked to Aramaki and am told that Aramaki said I'd have to make the decision. Oh joy, I can't fuss about anything if I made the decision. So I tell him that he had off a couple of months ago. I'll paraphrase what he said because despite my best watchdogs, someday this is going to end up on a blog and I cringe at what the kiddies will be telling their parents. He informs me in very virulent words that our disbanding and his subsequent hiding from the authorities, arrest and torture did not constitute a vacation. Since I had my head blown off and still enjoyed the time away from work, I thought I had a semi-valid point; so I argued. I told him that he'd been looking for a reason to renovate his Pachinko Palace and this gave him a federally funded excuse. He growled about necessity being the mother of invention and told me he needed "one damned week away from this place." Before I could make a conditional agreement, he adds that he'll be on net-silence for the duration. Well, that clinches it. I say 'hell fucking no', but my mouth actually forms the words "Okay, starting Saturday. Report back the following Saturday, 5am." I am going to have to find the glitch in my voice box program, but there it is, his permission lying on the table between us. He tucks his hands in his pockets, looks down at the carpet, says "Thanks" real nice so I can't take those damned words back, and leaves.

I should probably preface this very long docudrama by stating that Ishikawa is our IT Guru. I can do most of it, but Ishikawa can do some things even I have been unable to master. The British have a saying that if the dress rehearsal goes well, opening night is jinxed. This cyborg has a saying that if there are no computer issues the week before Ishikawa goes on vacation, Major Kusanagi should cancel all plans for the next seven days. Saturday was great. I ran some errands, did some work around the house, even had a friend over. We were sitting on the couch watching a show and getting in the mood to play Nintendo when a message came in from one of the upper level droids. I asked about the problem and was informed that the ballistics calibration array had ceased to function. I told the droid to examine all options and get back with me. My mood sufficiently killed, I packed it up and called it a night. I was in my regen chamber around 4am when the droid got back with me.

Before I go further, it always helps if I explain what things are. There are two basic types of weapons used in this job. Those that kill and those that don't. Ha ha. Seriously. There are the Stand Alone type weapons such as the gun I shoot. It is not interfaced with my systems in any way and I am just that damned good on the range. Then there are the Complex, or interface, type of weapons. The Ballistics Calibration Array is the computer system that keeps the Complex weapons calibrated so that when they are used, they perform properly. These weapons range from the AI Assist sniper rifle Saitou uses to the VR gatling guns on the front of the choppers. The BCA runs continuously because we rarely get advance notice of an upcoming need for firepower. If the BCA is down for any length of time, the calibration on one of these pieces of armament could shift and if needed, the weapon would be more dangerous than not using one at all.

Given that, we cannot operate without the BCA. The 4am phone call got me out of my unit long enough to break a window and pace the patio a couple of times. The droid, following protocol, contacted the IT department that maintains the military's systems. The ubersmart asshole there informed her that the BCA was not on the sanctioned list of systems or applications so the IT department would not do anything about the issue. So I called IT at 4:15am and we had a little chat. I informed them that there were seven divisions in the military that used this system and that all seven were responsible for the safety of the people who inhabit the land that this government happens to control. I informed the little weasel that his ability to sleep peacefully in his bed rests upon these units functioning properly. Voice quaking in a little bit of fear, either from me or the idea of living life in terror, he informs me that he'll let dayshift know about the issue so that they can fix it, he doesn't have the authority. Resigned and still half charged, I agree to the delay and hang up the phone. Angrily, I stalked to the window and put my hand through it. I then walked around outside for a while and finally went back to bed.

**Entry 102:**

Someone once asked me if I had been born a bitch or if I had been turned into one during the cyberization process. I can guarantee that whatever attitude I currently have, it has only been enhanced by becoming a cyborg. That means I've always been difficult. Waking up with a fully restored body is nice. It allows me to put energy to important things like getting the BCA back up and running. Since I cannot depend on IT and Ishikawa is on vacation…have I made a note to myself that he's no longer allowed vacation…I see that I have, good. I walked into the building and was greeted by a plethora of alarmed droids, it was Sunday afterall. After reassuring them that there was not a state of emergency, I explained that I was here to work on the BCA and they let me go about my business.

I examined the system and learned that one of the system servers had failed. A quick diagnostic exam revealed that the company that furnished the unit failed to put in any kind of redundancy system. Nothing shortens my fuse like incompetence and this system is a high criticality unit, which means that it's extremely important that we keep it running. There is no duplicate image drive, recovery disks or boot drives. So, before I do anything else, I'm going to have to replace the drive in the server. Armed with a small Philips, I laid down on the floor and attacked the perpetrator of my malcontent. After getting the case off of the unit and the metal housing off of the drive, I pulled out a SATA III drive that had to be produced…oh wait, there's a production stamp right on it. Yes, it was produced in 2019. Perfect. I should be able to find one of these in any reliable e-scrap yard in China. However, I need one that works. Standing up and dusting off the residue left by Togusa's half-assed cleaning duty, I now face the most terrifying task of my life…finding an authorized spend card.

The Modern Military is full of money saving requirements. A couple of years ago some pencil pushing weasel, probably related to the one I spoke with last night, made a decision that personnel had to use approved spend cards. This meant that each approved individual needed to apply for a special card. Since we go by assumed names, Section 9 was ineligible for individual cards so we were issued generic spend cards. Our group has three. When I checked with the droids, I discovered that Ishikawa forgot to turn his in last week so that one was out of commission. Bouma had checked one out before being deployed into the field with Pazu. The third one was locked in Togusa's desk and he was offline when I tried to contact him. Irritated beyond last night, I decide to use my own personal card and go shopping. Commandeering a single person copter, I filed a flight plan and left Aramaki a message telling him what was going on.

I'm half-way to Hong Kong's Retrofit Market when Aramaki checks his message and calls me. I can tell he's trying to be diplomatic, but I'm not in the mood. I know I'm supposed to have a damned spend card, but I'm almost to the Market and I'm not about to turn around and go back to base. He approves the personal account reimbursement based on emergency protocol and tells me to keep a low profile. I look down at myself and chuckle. Really? I couldn't keep a low profile if I dressed in sweats, I've tried. I have the body-style of the most popular high-class sexroid on the market. The sexroids that have my body are procured for the most elite and might be showcased in a private gathering but would not be shared and would never be allowed out into the public. I can tell a lot about the people around me by their reactions to my body. Because of the clandestine manner of what I represent to some, some will not acknowledge my existence and none will approach to ask me who I belong to. So, Aramaki's warning is about as effective as pissing in the ocean and he know this.

Hong Kong's Retrofit Market reminds me of the 1980's Hollywood idea of a post-apocalypse world. Hawkers have booths, or shops, along the alleys with outdated components, software, body parts, batteries… It's a complete chaotic hodgepodge of materials that are 90 junk, unless you know what you're looking for. I happen to know what I'm looking for, but I also know that if I'm not careful, I will pay far more than the drive is worth. I spotted a vendor that looked reliable and ran a spot check. Max's Mini Mark came back with a clean bill of health and a good recommendation from several sources. I took my time loitering in the general area, going into shop after shop and browsing before finally reaching Max's. I saw his eyes light up as I started towards the door and at the last minute, I hesitated and feinted a decision to move on. The light in his eyes dimmed and I inwardly smiled before nodding my head once and opening the door. Many of the shops have the rancid smell of burned electronics, reminiscent of the early 2000's when China's e-component recycling was being performed by husbands and wives burning plastic off of wires in pot-stoves located in front of houses while junk mongers crushed fluorescent bulbs releasing lead and mercury, to get the precious metals out of the insides. However, Max's was clean, a good indication that Max dealt in reliable parts. I walked into the shop and picked up random items, looking at them as if I knew nothing about electronics.

It didn't take too long for Max to come around the counter and engage in conversation. His belly bounced as he wedged it in between two moderately spaced shelves and the thinning hair on top was more proof that he had very little in the way of mechanical parts. He knew my body style for what it was and looked around carefully for my owner. Not seeing any possessive person staring at me, he smiled widely and asked me what I needed. I told him I was doing a little window shopping while my master was in a meeting. He moved even closer and asked me if I belonged to Malachai. I quickly dove through my resources and found that Malachai was a revolutionary leader based out of Hong Kong who fought for immigrant rights…Bingo! Hoping that I wasn't walking into a trap, I gently nodded. Max then told me that the next time I had Malachai in bed to tell him that Max Verdichi would provide whatever support needed to aid his efforts. Well, well, well. That was good information. After nodding again, I turned and looked at a shelf against the wall. Max asked me what I was looking for and I told him there was nothing in particular. Suddenly I picked up a box and asked him what it was. He told me that it was an old style disk drive. I asked him what it was used for and he told me that it was used to store data, much like our networks do. I smiled at him and asked him if it worked. He puffed up and with a note of pride informed me that this particular drive had never been used. With wonder, I looked at it and asked him how he knew it worked if it had never been used. Taking it from me, he walked behind the counter and plugged it into a testing device. It registered as holding 10 TB of data and all sectors were good. I looked at him and he sighed before telling me that this means it was in working order. I shook my head with confusion in my eyes and asked him how much it would cost. He grinned and I could see the figure increasing in my head. Suddenly he unplugged it and handed it to me. He said he'd give it to me for free if I would remember what he asked me to do earlier. I agreed that I would tell Malachai what he said, when I was in bed with him. It was an easy promise, the only intercourse the two of us are likely to have is a bullet from my gun fucking his head very nicely. I walked out of the shop one SATA III in hand and two hot tips already being transmitted to Batou, the only one that would answer my messages.

**Entry 103:**

Togusa and Batou have been investigating the tips I received yesterday and Batou looked up and glared at me, as much as his emotionless orbs can, as I walked by on my way to the server room…again. "Could you have given us a target that was any more annoying than Max the Junk Manager?" That one quote made my day. Smiling under my breath, I crawled back into my lair. The SATA III was easy to install once I disengaged the firewalls and attack programs the other parts of the server managed. It was as simple as unplugging a jumper and two cables, removing the old drive and repeating in reverse to install the new drive. But that was only a shadow ghost, giving me a false hope that everything would be finished quickly. The software for the drive was missing and an exhaustive search of the net did not yield a viable copy of the program. Cussing louder than under my breath, I headed back out around lunch time to grab a compatible software version from another facility. Bringing back fast food tacos for the human and some nanobites for those of us who cannot ingest cholesterol, I leaned over Batou's chair and watched him work while finishing up the cyborg version of a carrot and cream cheese bagel. They were making progress so I wished them luck and headed back to the control room with an old cd-rom disk to install in the antiquated piece of shit that keeps our equipment in top notch working order. Two hours later, I had to do a bit more research to learn that this 10TB drive could only be formatted to 500GB. WTF? Humored by the simplicity of this software from the stone age, I set the drive to format and left to check on the boys.

I guess the two of them can only do so much research before they have to take a break because when I walked in, they were playing ping pong over the androids' heads. The girls were ignoring their crazy schemes and searching. Suddenly one stopped and spoke aloud. "Malachai is the leader of a terrorist organization called Red Martyrs." All hell broke loose then, the clicking moving up in speed and volume while Batou and Togusa grabbed empty terminals and also went to work. Starting a little dive of my own, I just turned around and went back to work. The drive wasn't finished formatting yet so I got online and talked to an old friend of mine for a while. He had some very interesting things to say and if he wasn't such an idealistic SOB, I would probably take everything at face value. However, he is a sanctimonious shit so I spend half the time arguing with him. Tonight he pointed out that our arguing was like a very odd sense of foreplay and I had to remind him that I didn't date college kids or ideological librarians.

**Entry 104:**

I finally got the OS loaded and had to wait on the company that designed this unit to open at 9am. I don't understand how in our high-tech world a company that builds such critical systems cannot have a damned 24-hour support line. Hell, how about an internet site that has more than "Call Tech Support between 9am and 4pm at blah..blah...blah…." Given that, I decided to hit the apartment long enough to do a regen. After I reported my findings to Batou who scowled and told me I was being a show-off again, I called it a night. This morning, sporting donuts for the overworked slaves and a more chipper attitude (although Ishikawa can never take another day off again), I sat down behind my desk and picked up the phone at 9:07. Of course, the normal techs don't arrive until 10 so I agreed to call back and walked down the hall to check on the "slaves." Togusa was snoring loudly on the lounge couch. He probably doesn't normally snore, but his head was cocked at such an angle that his windpipe was somewhat constricted. Batou grumbled under his breath, two empty cans of beer lying sideways on the floor near his feet and he's absently reaching for one sitting on the table while he scrolled through chat channels. I laughed at his absentminded grope and put a donut down where his fingers were. He touched the sticky substance and pulled his hand back quickly, muttering under his breath. When he leaned away from the screen, he finally saw me out of the corner of his eye. He said some not choice words about my lack of manners but sat back long enough for us to discuss the case. He said leads were illusive at best and that he was beginning to believe I'd made all this shit up. I told him to stuff it and stood to leave. We both knew this was a way to burn off steam and neither of us took it personal. I told him I was headed back to work on the BCA and he nodded before going back to his research. Now I'm going to feel guilty if I don't write this, but Batou and Togusa haven't been pulling all-nighters merely to search for Malachai. They're running simulations and search grids with the new recruits too. The recruits have been going through rigorous training which has included three solid days of net dives and protected back hacking. It seems harsh, but they are new and we don't know their limits. Enough said on that subject.

I finally got someone at Tech Support at 10:15 only to find that the version of the OS I loaded is not compatible with the program. There aren't words to explain my ire. Picking up a piece of paper, I absentmindedly played while I listened to this guy tell me he can send the software next day. After much persuasion, I managed to talk him into loading the godforsaken program onto the net. I finally got the correct version of the OS loaded and the program loaded only to learn that the instructions to load the drivers weren't compatible with the version of software I loaded. Looking at the pile of cranes littering the desk, I waited for Tech Support to answer the phone only to find out after a ten minute hold that the guy who was helping me this morning left at 3 to go to the dentist. In a fit of anger, I flung winged paper off the desk with one foul swoop of my hand. Of course, Aramaki would HAVE to walk in just at that moment and inform me that the PM needs a security detail and that I'd been volunteered. I glared and pointed at the software on my desk and his face softened. Dammit I hate it when his face softens. We've spent too many years together, he and I. The PM is just the type of domineering woman that turns his gears and I'm just the type of woman who likes to see my friend finally happy. He tells me that I can stay if I'm needed but I have to admit that I can't get any further with the BCA until the Tech Support guy gets back in the morning. Face tightening in a semblance of a grin, he lightly places a hand on my arm and informs me it's formal dress. All-in-all, dinner wasn't too bad. I hope this means my luck is turning around.

**Chapter 105:**

**Success! ** Sort of. Boy what a dismal thing to say after five days of computer hell. The drivers work. The machine is running. The guy at Technical Support and I have come to an agreement that we never want to work together again. We have also come to an agreement that the IT person who normally takes care of this plant cough Ishikawa cough needs to never be allowed to take another vacation day. I reviewed the reports that a punch drunk Togusa and a physically taxed Batou left before heading to their respective homes. Again, the two that Batou recommended made it through the worst of the testing. Making a couple of notations that they need to be tested again in the field, I put the report back on his desk and headed home. It's been a long week and there's one more official day to go.

**Chapter 106:**

I've made a decision. I'm going to lease my apartment out and move into Section 9. There is no reason for me to pay rent on that place when I spent all my time here dealing with technical issues. How does Ishikawa do it? Oh, don't even think about his name Motoko. It'll just piss you off even more…too late! How hard is it for one stupid machine to stay running for two damned days? It's Friday. Have I gotten to do any of my job? Ah, no. It's all been Ishikawa's job. I'd have Aramaki give him a raise, but everyone is aware that he continues to come in because it's got greater odds than his Pachinko games. He's always looking for the pattern, probably why he's so good at computers. He can almost see the problems before they occur. In fact, he probably has a second and third contingency plan for the BCA. Or maybe I'm just that lucky when it comes to his vacations, soon to be lack-thereof.

Anyways, enough grumbling aside. It turned out to be a relay switch this time. I'm liking our newest addition to the team more and more each day. Proto came up from the bowels of Tachikoma Domain to help me troubleshoot the problem. Five minutes later, he was requesting an android to get a replacement relay and he had us back up and running by lunch. I highly approve of Aramaki's latest trial. It'll be interesting to see how GenTech develops this product. Since we're all owned by the government and our bodies are all used to improve the parent MegaTech's products, I'm sure the free GenTech R&D they are getting through Proto will be used in my next upgrade, if I can wait that long. I sent Proto back to the bowels of Techikoma hell with a thanks and a note hastily jotted in Aramaki's file that this one was a good choice for the team.

**Chapter 107:**

Ishikawa's back. 5am I quit being the computer tech and put back on my normal clothes, so to speak. I'm off today and I spent it lounging in my home and enjoying the view. Ishikawa left four messages, two using language unbecoming a lady, and one informed me that I was "never to touch his precious terminals again, upon pain of death." Since for the last few days I've been feeling rather generous towards the idea of torturing him past the pain of death, I decided to ignore that message until such a time that I can be a little more rational in my response. Filing it under the "never open this file" folder, I decided to take a small walk. Batou called in to tell me that our target showed up floating in the Wong Chuk Hang Nullah. He went on to inform me that Malachai's death was due to gang related activities. Before I could open my mouth, he chuckled and said they were already working on getting the information on the rival gang but suspected that the Malachai angle was not the direction we needed to go. I agreed and told him I'd be back first thing in the morning to get started again.

**Chapter 108:**

Our silver ghost showed up unexpectedly yesterday. It started as a routine day, which is so unusual as to be an 'unroutine' day. We were doing training when the Chief called us in on an emergency. Apparently the terrorist we've been looking for, Kuze, showed up on the inner city surveillance. However, before we could apprehend him, he disappeared. He showed up several hours later at the War Dead Memorial and then disappeared again. As we were scrambling to find him, he showed up on the top of the Kyushu Radio Tower. In front of millions of viewers, the two lines of people, all attesting to be the Individual 11 group, suddenly rushed forward and cut each other's heads off. We were in such a state of shock that it took a few minutes to realize the details. First, there were 12 people on the roof. Second, Kuze didn't die. He killed his "partner" and jumped over the railing. There was no trace of him by the time we arrived but we did learn that he wasn't using a standard issue face.

There are things about being a cyborg that I don't think about until I see them through the eyes of Togusa. Togusa to me is much like a child is to a parent. Oh, I don't see him as a child. However, I've been told that parents get a glimpse into a different type of world when they have children. Children will notice things that have become rhetoric to an adult. Then they'll point them out in such a way that the parent cannot help but notice how very different something looks through inexperienced eyes. Take the concept of face sculpturing. Sure, I use a standard design. Okay, it's not the NORMAL standard design, but the only custom things on me are all on the inside. My face is the same face on thousands of other mechanical bodies. The design I've chosen may keep me from passing myself on the street very often, but it does happen. I'm resigned to this factory standard face but there are those out there who need to be the individuals they were before cyberization. Apparently Kuze is one of those. Most of them choose a sculpted face because they either feel that they need to retain part of who they were originally or they need others to see them as something more than a cyborg. Despite that, the entire concept of a sculptured face can be macabre to a person who has never experienced the indifference of being only one of a certain model.

After Togusa's startled exclamation of "what the hell is a face sculptor?" Batou's explanation and Togusa's subsequent explanation of disgust, I had one of those "parent moments." I was suddenly able to see how disturbing the thought of a face being removed and another transplanted could be. I have to give it to our resident carbon based life form…he handled the investigation well. Although we were unable to get our information on Kuze, we were able to help a fellow teammate. As disturbing as the whole face sculpture issue is to Togusa, the idea of a person cloning another because the obsession is so great he or she wants to become that person is even more disturbing. I might not sleep for a week. I frankly don't understand how Pazu can live with the prospect of a copycat in the future and considering the situation surrounding how we met and how he was recruited for the team, that future may be closer to the present than any of us want to admit.

**Chapter 109:**

This must be my year to travel. Earlier in the year, before all of the Laughing Man witch hunt happened, I went to England. Then there was the trip to Hong Kong a few weeks ago. Now I'm being sent to Taiwan. It's one of the main countries the refugees came from and there is a contact who is willing to tell me what he knows…in person of course. Oh well, a short trip to Asia's Sin City won't hurt. Aramaki, as always, told me to keep a low profile and not cause any waves. I told him it was going to be a simple in/out deal. I spend two days with the reporter then I come back and give a formal report. How complicated can it be?

**Chapter 110:**

Who was it that said "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans."? Ah yes, the notorious Woody Allen. I guess the same thing is true of me trying to stay out of trouble. I'll have to tell Aramaki that I'll need to find another hotel if I go back to Taiwan. He sends me to one of the child prostitution and drug capitals of the world and thinks I can keep myself out of trouble? The question becomes whether it was assumed trouble or actual trouble. I'm not too worried about the Taiwan mafia, they won't bother me again. It's the android behind the counter at the hotel that has me concerned. What was I supposed to do? Let the kid rough it unprotected on the street? He has no more protective instincts than Batou has a sense of humor. In fact, like Batou, he thinks he's all that when he's NOT. Oh well, I washed my hands of it when I stepped on the plane. I hope the kid knows what he's doing and straightens out his act. There's a future for him if he does. If he doesn't I'm sure he'll find his way into a box.

**A/N:**

Yes, yes. For those of you who faithfully keep up with my works (versus just this story), I have been dallying in other genres. I've thoroughly enjoyed stepping out, and will continue to do so. But I always faithfully come back to Shirow Masamune. By the time you read this, I will have finally gotten to see 2nd Gig, but probably not Solid State yet so please do not spoil that for me. Please do not give my muse any more reason to quit fueling these stories than it already has. It is hard enough to convince it that the first two movies didn't happen so that I can continue to write these blurbs. Eventually I'll lose that argument and then I'll be forced to move away from the GITS series and focus solely on Appleseed, which isn't as meaty, or fun. Thank you for continuing to read this bizarre stream of cyborg consciousness. I appreciate all the readers! Plus, occasionally someone zings me a review that makes me smile, laugh or shake my head in resignation. Thank you to all of you who read and all of you who take that extra step and review. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Until next time -TK


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